Crime and Punishment
by CJSeaborn1800
Summary: After being captured, Erik is forced to become an assassin for the Paris police, can his new partner make him forget Christine? better than it sounds! My first story, please r and r!
1. Proposition

The cell they took me to was small and possessing a strange odor; rotting human hope mingled with multiplying human despair; it was grief, anger, and madness; the stench of death surrounded me.

What a place to end in, I thought as the time passed in. I was glorious once, I was feared and revered, I was a force to be reckoned with. I looked around my small cell, now I was no more than a common murderer, a name on an execution list, and by this time tomorrow, I will no longer exist.

I was leaving this world finally, and though I had planned on killing myself, I truly did not want to die, not in this place.

I had acted foolishly, I allowed my agony after loosing Christine to over power me; and I had not covered my tracks as I should have, and that rich boy had ratted me out, so that was why I was sitting in the odiferous cell.

Damn that Raoul, I thought, he had ruined everything, not just my plans with Christine, but my plans for my death as well, what right did he have to do that? I was just going to die, I was not going to hurt anyone, or follow the fop and Christine as they shared in marital bliss, I just wanted to be left alone.

Stupid boy, I thought again. I sighed. Now all that was left was the waiting; I stared at the barred door, picturing the jailors coming at dawn; they would take me under the arms, bind my wrists together, and lead me out to a crude platform where the end would come.

I was scheduled to be beheaded, it was a cruel form of execution, but the jailor said he had his orders, and I took that to mean that the fop had insisted his attacker's head be chopped off.

I stared at the wall in front of me, it contained 3,456 bricks, I had counted twice already. I thought it might distract me; it had not met my expectations.

Time seemed to be moving very slowly and very fast at once. Slowly, because each thought that occurred to me was a painful memory of Christine and my failed attempt to win her, and quickly because I knew each moment was drawing me closer to my gruesome death.

I guess it was about four in the morning when it happened. I heard footsteps outside, someone was coming and I wondered what poor cheat was going to be executed at this time.

A jailor opened my door; I guess I'm the poor cheat. Two men with guns entered, and they bound my hands behind my back, just as I had pictured it. They gruffly shoved me from my cell and led me down a hallway.

I had expected to be led outside, but it seemed that I was being taken lower into the Paris prison. The jail was filthy; the floors had not seen the light of day since their far off construction. An interesting paint covered the walls; grime, cobwebs, and here and there spatters of blood.

Ahead of us, there was a slant of light coming from a half open door. The light was a strange sight in the oppressing gloom of the prison. I heard voices coming from the room;

"It's too risky, I have let you go this far, but this is too much, he is too great a liability, if anyone ever found out…" The man's voice was intelligent sounding, he did not posses that unfortunate accent which the common idiots of Paris did, but he also sounded worried.

"It's not, I told you," another smart voice cut in, he had a straightforward confident tone, "He's perfect, and I will make sure nobody will find out. If you want this to work, than let me do my job and I will make it right…"

The man was still talking as we walked in, and I took stock of the two occupants of the room. The man belonging to the first voice was standing impatiently, his hands in his pockets. He was an older man, his hair was beginning to gray, and he wore an old but clean gray suit.

The second voice was seated behind a desk in the room. There was a chair in front of the desk and he motioned to me to sit. The man behind the desk was around forty, dark hair and quick, dark eyes. I could not help but notice that he showed no fear as he looked at me; my face was perfectly visible, they had taken my mask. However this man steadily regarded me as though I was any criminal.

"Alright boy," he said to me, leaning back in his chair and drumming his fingers impatiently on the desk, "I am going to give you a choice, you can live and do as I ask or die tomorrow, you have one second to decide."

I looked back, stunned. Firstly, he called me 'boy' which I by no means was. Then there was the odd prospect he had just presented me with. What did he mean?

"Right now, say live or die," The man said again, his tone was calm, as though he was talking to me about nothing more important than the weather.

"Live," I heard myself saying, and I was a little surprised, but the chance to not get my head cut off had arisen, and I guess some primal human instinct of survival I had been certain had not existed had kicked in at an extremely pivotal moment. Now I stared back at the man.

"Good choice, well good for me, and that is all that really matters, isn't it?" I knew I was not meant to respond and I didn't.

"My name is Captain Dumas, and I had an idea; I am a police man, as I am sure you have guessed, and I find there are jobs my boys don't want to do, nor should they have to. Justice is a tricky business, and I had the epiphany that the best ones for a tricky situation is a tricky person; that is where you come in." Dumas leaned forward and stared at me,

"I am putting together a group of criminals who will work for me, you will kill who I tell you, from now on you are an assassin for the Paris police; of course, if you are ever caught we will not help you, or admit we commissioned you. You are scum, you know, don't get the idea I like you just because I am letting you live. You in particular are a hard case, as I am sure you heard, my superior here, Fillips, was stating, you are a high profile criminal, and to not execute you is a risk, but I know you're smart and you're not completely mad, so I wanted to make you this offer, however if you botch it," his eyes narrowed, "I will not hesitate to have you killed, that clear?"

I was spinning slightly, but I nodded, but Dumas shouted "Speak up boy,"

"Yes"

"Yes sir"

I said nothing, I was not intimidated by this man, and I was angry with him for attempting to force me to give him my respect; something I gave to no one.

"Alright," Dumas said, then he looked up at the armed jailors behind me, "Kill him" and the men cocked their guns,

"Yes sir," I said icily, hating myself for giving in when he threatened my life.

"There we are, now I guess you should tell me your name, all anyone knows is that you are the Phantom, and that is ridiculous, so unless you want people calling you 'Phanny' you better state your name"

"Erik," I said, cringing at the thought of anyone calling me 'Phanny'

"Erik what," Dumas demanded

"Don't have a last name,"

"Do you want me to call you Erik Phanny?"

"I don't have a last name" I repeated, maybe I should have said die and let them kill me.

"Fine, than you are Erik Phann," I groaned, causing Dumas to say, "That or death," I think he had a morbid fascination with humiliation.

"So what happens now?" I asked, wanting only to change the subject from my name,

"Take him away," Dumas said lightly, and motioned to my guards.

The two men roughly grabbed me, but as they turned me to lead me out, Dumas spoke again, "Oh, ah…I thought that you criminals should work together, you will be having a partner, jobs will be easier that way," And with that I was taken away.

As we walked back down the hall, I tried to grasp what had just happened, it was a complete shock. I had gone from one side of death to the other, from receiving to dolling out; once again, I thought.

I had been an assassin before, and it had almost ruined me. The people I had been told to kill were not always deserving of death, some, many, were innocent. I hoped this time would be different. Maybe the Parisian police were less corrupt than the Persian shah, but honestly, I knew I should not expect too much.

The jailors shoved me into a small cab; I was leaving the prison. The cab ride was a short one; only several minutes heading into the most decaying part of Paris. The cab stopped and I was led into a dilapidated shack of a house. We descended a flight of stairs and headed into a basement room.

They shoved me into the room and shut the door. Well, I guess that is that, I could hear them leaving. I stared around the room; it was cramped, one bright candle had been lit, and it had two beds in it. I sunk down on one of them.

My life, I thought, and shook my head, I had about a hundred problems; heartbreak, my disgusting face, my torrid past, not to mention the fact that I had just become an assassin, again. However, at the moment, my biggest problem was the fact that my hands were still tied behind my back.

I struggled futility with the bonds for a time, before angrily giving up; I felt so tired. I rolled onto my stomach, and closed my eyes.

I had not been in this position for long when the door opened again. I looked up, hoping it was someone coming to untie me. It was not. A jailor roughly threw someone into the room, my partner; I groaned and sat up.

The figure stepped into the light, and I saw to my utter shock that it was a woman. She was tall, thin, and had lanky blond hair. She looked at me coolly,

"So, they didn't untie you either?" she noted my arms behind my back and I saw she was similarly bound,

"No, they did untie me, I just tied myself up again for fun," I said sarcastically, and she raised her eyebrows slightly,

"Nobody told me you were funny"

"Yeah…so, you unite me, I'll untie you"

"I feel like I have heard that sentence only slightly modified before," She said evenly,

"Nobody told me you were funny," I repeated, and glared at her, I had no doubt, I should have said die.

"Alright smart guy, how do you propose we do this?"

"Turn around," I said standing up and coming toward her.

"Again, familiar," She mumbled. I rolled my eyes, she was a treat.

I inspected the knot binding her hands, memorizing it so I could remember which way to pull the rope to loosen the knot.

I turned around and grabbed her arm, then slid it to the rope; it occurred to me that this was awkward, but I was really too tired to care. After several moments; I pulled it loose.

"Thanks," she said,

"Alright, now do me," I winced the moment I said it,

"You know…"

"Yes, you have heard that before, are you an assassin or a tramp?"

She kicked the back of my legs and I fell to my knees; assassin, I thought.

"That was a warning, and I don't have to untie you, you know," She slapped the side of my head,

"Alright! You're not a tramp…" I felt her pick at the knot and my hands came free. I stood quickly and turned; she was staring shocked at me, apparently surprised I had moved so quickly, I grabbed her arms, pinning them down,

"Don't take me for some fool you can slap around, I have had enough of that, I am not a nice man, and I have reached my humiliation point for today, so don't give me a reason to take my anger out on you," I did not think as I spoke, and as I heard myself I knew I would never actually hurt her, even if she was the most annoying, low, person in the world, I would never hit her, and by the look on her face she knew it.

"Easy tough guy," she said, her eyes stared evenly at me.

I let go of her and lay down on the bed. It was hard and moldy smelling, I closed my eyes. I should have said die.

"What's your name?" she asked me, and I opened one eye to look at her.

"Erik Phann"

"Phann?"

"Don't you say a word," I said, and I rolled onto my side, turning away from her and facing the disgusting looking wall.

"I'm CJ Bradshaw"

"Does CJ stand for Constantly Jarring?" She threw something, most likely a shoe, at my back; apparently it did not.

"What happened to your face?" she asked in a disgusted tone, I sighed,

"I was born this way," nothing like the truth, I thought, "what's your excuse?" I asked bitterly

"Just ugly I guess," she said simply, and she blew out the candle.

That night was terrible; no sleep came to me. I just lay in the bed, thinking of Christine. She was most likely in the arms of her pretty little viscomte, in a warm rich bed, sleeping peacefully. And I let her have that, I thought resentfully, I trained her so she would be noticed by that boy, I had seen her for the beauty she was first, she was mine, this was not fare. Christine got a fairy tale ending and I got this; bound to the whim of the police and a washed up girl for company.


	2. Prelude to the job

The next day finally came, and I could not help but think that if it had not been for Captain Dumas, I would be dead. I was not sure if I was happy to be alive or not.

CJ was still sleeping; snoring loudly. I was trying to ignore her, but the noise was so irritating to my ears, which were used to musical perfection, I could not stand it for long. I picked up the shoe she had thrown at me the night before and lobbed it at her, striking her shoulder.

She jolted awake, "What was that about?"

"You snore," I was not looking at her, I was on my back staring at the ceiling; a spider was lazily creating a web above me.

CJ said nothing. In fact, we said nothing the whole day. Nothing happened, no one came to speak to us, to further explain what we were doing, or to feed us, there was nothing.

At the end of the day, our door finally opened and Captain Dumas entered, followed by two armed men. I notice one was carrying food.

"So I guess you would like to be untied," he began, but then I held up my hands, indicting I was already free, and he stared, "how…?" I pointed my thumb at CJ

"I'm impressed, no one else in this little experiment of mine did that, good, you are working together already,"

I blinked; I could not really picture myself working with this girl.

"First job, you two are going up town, Monsieur Wollstonecraft, mouth full I know, anyway, this guy has been causing some commotion; he is stirring up emotions in the middle class; trying to cause a revolt, and France can't take that. You two, kill him, then find the list; we think he has a list of coconspirators in his house somewhere."

"And by coconspirators you mean future marks?" CJ asked dryly, to which Dumas nodded stoically.

I milled over his words in my head; I did not like any part of what he had said. "Wait, you _think_ he has a list? _Somewhere_ in his house?"

"Yeah, make it work, and here" Dumas tossed me my mask, "slightly more anonymity"

"What about the food?" CJ asked, looking at the man holding a meager dinner in a bucket,

"Waiting for you when you come back,"

Dumas turned and started to walk out. I did not move, and neither did CJ.

"Now you two," He snapped, and I looked over at CJ, she looked back and shrugged,

"Now or never I guess," She sighed. I stood, and we followed Dumas out of the basement room.

There were doors on either side of the hallway we were walking down, other participants in this little gamble of the Captain's were no doubt kept in the rooms blocked from my view by the rotting planks of wood.

We left the shack dressed in houses clothing and headed to the cab. To my surprise, Dumas entered the cab as well. It appeared he was coming with us.

The ride to the home of our first target was a long one. As we went I had a hundred things running through my head; how should I kill the man? Where would the list be? How could I get into the house? I suddenly realized…

"Are we supposed to kill him with our bare hands?" I asked Dumas,

"One gun, one knife, who wants what?" CJ and I exchanged glances,

"I want the gun" CJ said, and I had no objection, so I took the knife and she had the gun. I looked down at the blade in my hands; I wished I had a rope.

The cab stopped in a dark ally, but it was by no means a filthy, poor ally; we were in a rich neighborhood now where the houses were grand, possessing well polished fronts visible in the gas lamp light.

"One block from here, the blue house on the right side of the street, 478 is the number, that's the house," Dumas said to us, "Go and don't disappoint me, if you do, if you two run, I promise I will find you and you will not like the end you will meet." Dumas narrowed his eyes, he looked deadly serious.

I could have laughed at him; if he only knew who he was talking to, I had seen every form of cruel torture ever invented, I even invented some myself. Even life was torture for me; and he thought he could threaten me.

Time for him to know the truth I thought; "Sir, I can run if I want to and if you find me, I assure you nothing you do to me can match watching a man get a nail driven into his skull as a form of execution; so no more threats, I will be coming back, I have no where else to go, as I am sure you knew already; that is why I am here in your little experiment." There was silence for a moment,

"If you two are done, we have a little job to do…" CJ said, stepping out of the cab and turning around,

"See you in an hour _sir_," I said to Dumas, then I followed CJ out into the Paris twilight.


	3. Monsieur Wollstonecraft

We walked down the road. It was odd to be moving around in the streets again. CJ was striding beside me, and it occurred to me that while I had been thinking about how this job was to be done, I had not taken her into consideration.

"So what does CJ stand for?" I figured if I was about to risk my life with somebody, I should know her name.

"Candice Joselyn," She responded,

"Why CJ?"

"Candice Joselyn sounded too ladylike for me,"

"Good call," I was trying to lighten the mood with my rapier wit, but it sounded more like a cruel insult, and I regretted saying it, the last thing I needed now was to be shot in the back by an angry woman.

"So how are we going to do this?" She asked, apparently she was not offended or even ruffled,

"We need to get in without causing a commotion," I paused, considering, "Their might be a window we could go in…"

"Or the front door," she said, and I thought she was joking until I thought about it for a moment,

"We need to see Monsieur Wollstonecraft about an important matter?" I asked

"I think we know that he is in grave danger and must be careful,"

"And there might be a list someone is after,"

"Sounds good to me," CJ said as we turned the corner and the blue target house came into view.

"Nervous?" I asked her, remembering the first time I had gone after a target; my stomach had been turning and I had been desperately hoping all would go as I planned,

"Not really, I have done this before you know,"

"Really?" I asked skeptically,

"Yes, only last time I was working for the 'bad guys'"

"Me too, in Persia" I said, and then we were in front of the house. "Here we go" I drew in a deep breath and walked up the front stairs. I knocked on the door, CJ was waiting behind me; the expression on her face was one of worried anxiety. So she is nervous, which made things worse; if she was nervous she might make a mistake.

Then she looked at me, her expression changed and her eyebrows raised at me; she had been acting.

The door opened. I had a hard time keeping the smile off my face because the man at the door was not a butler or a maid; it was a well to do man in a dark green silk robe holding a half finished glass of brandy in his hand,

"Monsieur Wollstonecraft?" I asked in a concerned sounding voice,

"Who the hell are you?" He asked in a slightly drunken but mostly angry, and I could not blame him, we must have looked quiet the sight; we looked like the vagabonds we were.

"My name is Raoul Dumas, this is my wife Christine," I used the only names I could think of and wrapped my arm around CJ; hoping she would play along. She did.

Monsieur Wollstonecraft did not look impressed so I continued; "Monsieur Wollstonecraft?" He nodded, "yes, that's me"

"I don't know if I should talk outside about this sir," I said, using my best concerned friend voice, it sounded convincing to me.

Apparently it did to him to, "Come in then man, and speak,"

I was just thinking what a trusting fool this man was when he pulled a gun out of his robe and pointed it at us. "Who are you two? And what do you want?"

I eyed the gun, "Sir! Please, do not be rash, we have come to warn you," I thought I did a good job of sounding terrified at the sight of the gun,

"About?"

"We have heard, sir," CJ said, speaking for the first time, using a perfectly sweet voice I did not think she had possessed, "that there are some…men…they want to…make trouble for you, because of what you are saying about the Paris government," She finished and I held my breath; believe us, I willed him,

"You two had better come in," he said heavily after a few moments, he put down his gun and let us in.

I had a silent little celebration in my head; we were in. I kept my arm around CJ, an appropriate show of marital union, I thought.

Monsieur Wollstonecraft led us to his study and sank down behind his desk, downing his brandy. "Alright," he sighed, "what is going to happen?"

"The police are going to send an assassin after you," I said slowly, he looked shocked,

"What! I thought they might threaten me, or try to get me to be quiet with a bribe or something, but an assassin…how do you know about this anyway?" He looked up at me, suddenly suspicious again

"Well…" I wanted to appear awkward, "You see sir, I was a guest of the Paris police for a time, and I happened to escape, thanks to this lovely wife of mine," I smiled at her, and she blew a kiss at me; she was good at this.

"But I heard about their plan, and I thought maybe we could help each other out,"

"I see," Monsieur Wollstonecraft leaned forward, his expression clearing, "you thought you would give me a heads up, and I could get you and your _lovely wife_ here," he regarded CJ, apparently he did not think her unwashed hair and red eyes were very lovely, "a ticket out of Paris,"

"Yes sir," I said smiling.

Wollstonecraft paused a moment, smiling at his amazing deductive reasoning, "what did they want to kill me for anyway?" he asked frowning

My mind went blank, Dumas had not told me what this guy was saying about the Paris government, what the hell was I going to say?

"A list, right dear?" CJ asked me, tugging my arm, "Didn't you say they wanted a list?"

"Of Course!" Wollstonecraft stood from the desk and went to one of the bookshelves lining the study, he pulled out a copy of what appeared to be a bound play of Julius Caesar, "They want this list! You see, well, you probably do not, you two are not the most educated of people are you?" He looked down his nose at us,

"No sir," I smiled helplessly, "I never had much use for schooling"

"I see, well, you probably do not realize it, but our government is weak, it has no control over the people! And it cannot protect us! I am going to change that," he sounded now like he was talking more to himself than to me,

"I am putting together a group of men, smart, strong men," he waved a paper list he had taken out of the bound pages, "and we are going to change things, shake things up," he turned to put the book back on the shelf, and that was when I acted, I quickly strode forward and placed my hands on his head; I turned hard and snapped his neck.

He slumped to the floor; he had never had any idea I was going to do that. I took a deep breath, I decided I had changed since Persia; even though this man was a pretentious jerk, I hated doing that with all my heart.

"He was a treat, I think he liked me," CJ said sarcastically, I turned to her

"He thought you were _lovely,_" she offered a small, fake smile.

"Alright, so we make it look like a suicide?"

"I guess," I had not really thought about it, in Persia I had just left.

She moved to the large plush curtains and took one of the ties, "Bring him over here," She said lightly, and I dragged his body over to her.

I watched as she tied the curtain tie in a noose, wrapped it around his neck then attached the other end to the window lock. "It will look like he just sat down and strangled himself,"

I nodded in approval. I picked up the list which had fallen to the floor, and CJ came toward me. On the list were written several names.

"So who was playing Cassius to his Brutus?" CJ asked me, and I raised my eyebrows at her,

"You know Shakespeare?

"I know everything,"

"Lovely," I said, putting the list in my pocket, "Let's…" I was about to say leave, but then I noted CJ was looking at all the books on the shelves, "What are you doing?" she was grabbing books and placing them under her arms,

"It's boring in the basement,"

"Come on, _wife_," I tugged at her arm and we rushed out of the study.

Back on the street, we silently walked toward our carriage.

"That was lucky" I said, more to myself than to her,

"Yeah…you should work on the name thing though, _Raoul_ and _Christine_?"

"What? There're names, _CJ_, and he believed it so I don't think you can say anything," I stated angrily

"You need to work on the name thing," She repeated; I rolled my eyes.

The carriage was parked in the same place it had been left in, and we jumped back in.

"That was quick," Dumas said, "not even an hour,"

"Here is the list," I said handing it to him "Wollstonecraft killed himself, hung himself from a curtain tie,"

"Really?" He asked me,

"We might have helped him," I admitted lightly.

"Fantastic," Dumas said dryly, "Give me the weapons," We handed over the gun and the knife,

"Why the books?" Dumas asked, staring at CJ

"I like to read," she said

"Really?"

"Well, I need something mundane to break up the continuous excitement that is a basement room with two beds a table and a candle and pretty boy over here" she pointed at me,

"Right," Dumas said, obviously not that interested.

We were taken back to our pitiful house, then led to our pathetic room. Dumas lit the candle and then left; stating he would be back the next night and we would do it all over again.

I took a loaf of bread left by our guards and sank onto my bed. CJ threw her books on her bed and took the other loaf. I stared at her; her hair was disgustingly dirty, her skin sallow, and there were dark circles under her red eyes; an ugly looking creature, perfect company for me.

"What?" she asked, apparently she had noticed I was staring at her,

"Nothing," I said, watching her eat; she had a greedy way of consuming food, as though she hand not had much in some time, "Do you think they will ever let us take a bath?"

"Are you saying I need to take a bath?"

"I would say no, but I feel I should not lie to you,"

"Then I won't lie to you; you're just as ugly as I am, and you smell just as bad, so hold your tongue."

We get along well, I thought sarcastically to myself, but we did make a good team when it came down to it, and I supposed that was all that mattered.

I lay on my back. My thoughts drifted back to Christine; my beautiful, wonderful Christine, the goddess with an angel's voice. I realized I was still desperately in love with her; I always would be.

Perhaps one day I would see her again; I decided it was worth living, worth playing this game the Captain had set up if I could see her again. It was too bad that Raoul creature was such a fop; he would never give the police a reason to eliminate him, which meant I would never be given an opportunity to kill him, which was really too bad.


	4. Rude awakenings

Authors note: thank you few who have reviewed, I am soooo glad you did, because I was thinking nobody was reading this thing, so I am happy somebody liked it. One of you mentioned the conversation was too 21st century, and I knew while I was writing I that it was, but I just can't seem to help it! so, sorry to all the historical purists out there, but oh well! Thanks for the feed back!

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew there was sunlight in the room; desperately fighting its way through the one small grimy window in the basement. I sat up, glancing over to the other bed; to my surprise, CJ was not in it. In fact, she was not in the room at all.

I got up and walked over to the door and tried the knob, it was still locked. As I was wondering where on earth she had gone to, the door opened behind me. CJ was shoved inside; her hair was wet and she was wearing a different set of clothes, men's trousers and black shirt.

"Sure you don't want to take me up on my offer darling?" The guard eyed her,

By way of response, she smiled coyly and took several steps toward him; then she grabbed his gun hand and thrust it upward, throwing her other fist into his face all the while hooking her leg around the back of his then bringing it forward, landing the man on his back. This whole movement took all of two seconds, and guard looked up at her, amazed, as she walked over to her bed and sank down on it, picking up one of her books and calmly opening it.

I looked at the guard and shrugged, "she's fun, isn't she?" I said to the bewildered guard,

He nodded at me, "Alright, you next," He motioned for me to fallow him. I was led upstairs, and into a dirty bathroom. The guard left and shut the door, I heard a thud on the other side, and I assumed the man was leaning against the door.

The bathroom looked as though it had never been cleaned; there were cobwebs everywhere and the window had been boarded over. I sighed, there were buckets of water beside the tub and I fixed a bath for myself. The water was freezing and not completely clean; the tub was also ungodly small, I had to bring my knees almost to my chest in order to fit into it, so I hurriedly washed myself.

I stepped out of the tub and looked for something to dry myself with, but I found nothing. I eyed a pile of clothes resembling the ones CJ had been wearing; I assumed they were for me. I used my old clothes as a towel, and changed into my new ones.

When I arrived back at my room and walked inside, I heard the door shut behind me, but I was busy staring at the room. CJ had not been idle while I was gone; the beds had been moved, they were no longer side by side, they were pushed against opposite walls. CJ looked up at me.

"I thought this would work out better; we are farther apart," She said

"Yes," I agreed and sunk down on my bed. I was not tired; so I could not sleep. In truth, I was just board, I was not used to not being able to do nothing; there was nothing to write music on, no instruments to play, and singing was out of the question. I needed to do something though; my eyes fell on CJ.

She was contentedly reading one of her stolen books. The last thing I wanted to do was ask her if I could barrow one; but once the idea got into my head; it was all I could think about. I stared at her; her skin was still sallow, but at least her hair was now clean.

"How many books did you take last night?" I asked her, hoping she would take my meaning; that she had more than enough and if I wanted to read one it would be acceptable.

"Don't know," She said, turning a page; apparently she wanted to be difficult.

"More than two, yes?" I asked, trying again.

"Yes," she said still not looking up,

I was exasperated, "Well where did you put them?"

This time she did look up at me, "If you want to read one, just say so,"

"I don't" I lied, I wanted her to offer me one without actually having to ask her for one; I think it had something to do with pride and not wanting to admit she had had a good idea.

"Alright" she said, going back to her reading; she was not going to make this easy for me.

"What are you reading?" I asked her after a moment, causing her to put her book down and look at me,

"Listen, the books are right here," she pointed to a pile beside her bed, "Just take one and stop annoying me,"

I walked over to her bedside and knelt down to see what choices I had to pick from. There was an uneasy tension as I knelt there by her bed; I felt it, I was too close to her. The evening before I had wrapped my arm around her and pulled her close to me, but that had been acting. This was just us, alone in a room and I was too close to her. I quickly grabbed a book and returned to my bed.

That was how the rest of the day was spent; I read The Count of Monty Cristo and she read whatever the hell she was reading; she never did tell me. All in all there was an uneasy tension throughout the room.

The light in the room was filing and it was at this time that CJ and I both discovered the problem. I looked up at her and found she was already staring at me.

"What are the odds there are matches hidden in these beds?" CJ asked; in the growing darkness the pages of the book we were reading were illegible.

"Not good," I said angrily, I was almost finished and I was intrigued; the Count had done exactly to his enemies what I wished to do to Raoul, and I was very interested to see how it worked out,

"Than what are the odds that you can magically produce fire?" CJ said, picking up the candle

"Also not good," I was known as a magician, but that was when I had tools to work with; even if at times it looked otherwise, I could not make something out of nothing.

"Damn," I mumbled "I wanted to see how this ended"

"What are you reading?" CJ asked, throwing her long legs over the side of her bed and turning to face me.

"The Count of Monte Cristo," I replied

"I read that, I can tell you the ending if you want,"

"No," I said in my most angry, commanding voice, CJ appeared un fazed,

"I'm just saying, I could tell you"

"I heard you," I snapped, "and I said no"

"Sure? Because I could tell you,"

"Yes," I growled, "How did you learn to read anyway? I did not think people like you would know how to read," I was trying to make her mad, and it worked,

"People like me? I suppose you mean dirty, ugly looking street girls who are only good for one thing, if that?" She narrowed her eyes at me,

"Yes, I guess that is what I mean" I responded smirking, I was happy to see she was irate,

"For your information, my father was a rich man, an assassin for England, and he taught me how to read, write, and many other things besides," Her voice was dangerously clam, "And where the hell to you get off looking down on me when you are no better?"

"Alright; so let's just say this," I began, "we are both vile, moral less, disgusting wastes of human flesh. We don't like each other, we don't have to, and maybe we should just not talk to each other,"

CJ nodded, then cast her gaze down to the floor. Mercifully, Dumas entered the room soon after.

"Alright, tonight it going to be much harder, there are several people you have to eliminate, and you have to get some money out, you see," Dumas spoke very quickly and wasted no time on formality, "There was a robbery about a week ago, and we finally tracked down the men who did the job, but as wasting good men in an attempt to retrieved something as unimportant to me as money and family air looms does not appeal to me, I am sending you two in."

We both nodded; great, I thought, I am going to risk my life to get back some money for an old rich men, the unfairness of it stung me.

"Alright, let's go," Dumas motioned to us and we followed.

The cab from the night before was waiting for us; but tonight there were no armed escorts.

"No guards tonight?" I asked Dumas dryly,

"I think we both know they were superfluous, especially after what CJ here did to Tom this morning," Dumas smirked as we got into the cab. Apparently he was checking up on us.

This night was going to be much more difficult, there would be no acting, no easy trusting drunk to let us into his home; we were headed for the home of career criminals.

CJ and I were let out of the cab behind the house we were going to be braking into. Dumas informed us that we were to find and kill the thieves; then carry the money and anything else we found of value out back to the cab. This time he handed both of us hand guns and a bag of bullets each.

The house was completely dark and there was no back entrance; only a small window high above the ground. I knew that it was unlikely anyone could see us in the dark from that window, but it was not impossible. And if someone was watching us, we were sunk.

Now the question remained; how were we to get in? The front door seemed unlikely; I could think of no plausible reason a criminal would believe for letting us in. CJ and I crouched behind a bush; I could not believe I was reduced to this; crouching behind a bush, intolerable.

"Any ideas?" CJ asked me, and I shook my head, "A diversion?" CJ suggested, and I stared at her. She really was good at this.

"Of what kind?" I asked, and CJ pointed to her gun. "I can shoot at the front of the house, while you go in through that window," She pointed at a pain of glass on the side of the house which looked as though it was about eight feet from the ground.

I nodded, but then I asked "why do I have to go in the window?"

"You're taller," she said simply, which was true, even though she was tall, I had several inches on her.

"Alright," I said, then she stood to go to the front of the house, "give me a minute," she said over her shoulder, then she disappeared into the Paris night.

I slunk to the side of the house, pressing my back against the rotting wooden planks of the building. I waited; then I heard the gun go off, the sound of the shot shattering the dark silence enveloping the area around me.

Realizing I needed to break the window, I turned to face it and pointed my own gun at it and waited; I heard CJ's second shot and quickly let my gun go off, shattering the glass. I hoped that who ever was inside would not have noticed that I had shot from the side of the house and that the noise of CJ's shot had covered mine.

I could hear people scrambling inside, and CJ's gun went off again. I could hear the sounds of feet running down the stairs and the front door of the house burst open and a voice yelled into the night. I heard a gun go off which was not CJ's and I knew it was my cue.

I jumped and grabbed the window ledge; and I silently thanked years of scampering around the uneven bowls of the opera which had allowed me the strength to pull myself up and into the room above me.

The room I tumbled into was completely dark; and also empty of ever thing save a bed and some sacks, thankfully. As I pulled myself into the room, I cursed the broken window pain; there were still sharp edges which cut into my back and hands. However, there was no time to worry about that.

I made no noise as I edged out of the room. My eyes adjusted quickly to the dark; I had always had a gift for seeing in the dark. Outside my original room of entry, I was faced with a short hallway; one door at the end and two on the right side. To my left a narrow stairway led to the down stairs. I quickly reloaded my gun and waited.

I listened to the raucous downstairs; four voices were arguing.

"Somebody is out there,"

"I know that, why do you think Marc ran after him?"

"He won't catch him"

"Yes he will"

"What if he doesn't?"

They were coming up the stairs,

"We should go after him; help him"

"You go if you want" I heard one set of feet turn around. Now three were still advancing. I could see one was holding a lantern; it was casting a flickering yellow shadow up that stair and I quickly retreated into the safe cover of the dark room.

"Do you think someone found out it was us who robbed the Toulon house?"

"The way you were bragging about it in the pub two nights ago; I would not be surprised"

Now they reached the landing where I was standing; hidden in the room I had entered in. One turned and walked straight at me; his eyes were not used to the blackness of the room after the light of the lantern, I don't think he even saw me as I pointed the gun at his head and pulled the trigger.

He fell dead on the floor and I darted to the wall beside the door as his two comrades came charging into the room. They dashed right past me hiding beside the door and concentrated on the broken window. I quickly made up my mind; taking a quick step toward them, I cracked one man hard in the back of the head; it was a dirty thing to do, to attack from behind, but really what else could I do? He fell and his friend with the lantern turned.

This was where he should have shot me; I had not had time to reload my hand gun; he was pointing his gun right at me. However instead of pulling the trigger, he shook fearfully and backed up against the wall.

I must have looked hideous standing there with my mask off; the flickering lantern light further distorting my malformed excuse for a face; like some kind of beast from a nightmare or a mythical tale.

As my quarry quivered, I stooped and picked up the unconscious man's gun and shot. It was a gruesome sight; blood blossoming from a hole in his chest as the fallen lantern rolled across the room sending strange shadows spinning across the walls. It was almost fitting; the room was whirling almost as much as my head was.

What had this man really done to deserve death? He had only been trying to survive; we were all just trying to survive in this Paris city and it was inevitable that not everyone could do it in a righteous way; I was an example of that as much as they were. It was true these men had broken the law, they had robbed a house, and it was easy for men like Dumas to say 'obey or else,' but they were not stuck in a run down old house with nothing to eat. Under those circumstances, anything seemed like a good idea.

The lantern hit the wall and the shadows became stationary again; it snapped me back to reality. I had some surviving to do myself. I reloaded and shot the unconscious man in the back of the head. I had to; that was my job.

Trying not to think about how I had been standing in a room with three people and now they were gone; I moved to explore the rest of the house.

Picking up the lantern I strode to the sacks I had seen earlier. There were two medium sized cloth bags; and opening them I discovered coins, a gold candle stick, and a diamond necklace and a gigantic diamond ring. For some reason; I pocketed the ring. Standing, I left the room; stepping high over the three dead men, and opened the first door on my right; it was empty. The second door was a bedroom; but I saw no sacks such as the ones I had found before.

However, I knew that did not mean there was nothing in there; I knew if I had robbed a house I would not leave my take in plain view. I looked to the floor; it was wooden planks.

Stooping, I looked over the floor, my eyes searching for any uneven planks. It was not long before I found what I was looking for; a slight raise between the floor boards. Setting down the lantern and the sacks, I pried the floor board loose, and beneath it lay what I was looking for; two more sacks filled with stolen goods.

It appeared that the take had been two sacks each; I had found four which accounted for two of them, so I was looking for at least six more. "It's not worth it" I mumbled standing and taking the four sacks of money with me; I left the lantern, I did not really need it to see.

In the room at the end of the hall I discovered two more sacks, hidden even less originally in the bed mattress; Only now I had run out of hands to carry the sacks in so I decided to carry four of them over to the window; hopefully CJ would return soon and help me carry them; I placed them by the window in case she did not and I had to throw some down and then jump out; something about using the front door unsettled me.

I put the sacks down,

"Don't move" An icy voice behind my said suddenly, and I felt my blood run even colder than normal. There was no way I could go for my gun; or any other weapon, I was dead, unless the man behind me did not have a gun but something told me he did. I stood slowly; this was the end. I thought, and I never got to see Christine again; that thought crushed me. At least it would be over.


	5. Going out the window

I decided to turn around, I wanted to meet my death head on; I was the Phantom of the Opera, or at least I had been, I was not some coward who would be shot in the back.

I whipped around and heard the gun fire; I felt no hurt, maybe he had missed? Looking at him I saw he was indeed pointing a gun straight at me; he was illuminated by the lantern light from the other room; I looked into his eyes; why did he not shoot again?

Then I saw he was looking wide eyed at me, then he fell to his knees, then his stomach and at last I understood; there was a hole in his back which was gushing blood.

Looking up; I saw CJ smirking at me from the hallway; apparently, she had come in and immediately gone into the room with the lantern, just as I was in the window room, then the man had come up the stairs and found me.

"Alright?" She asked me in an amused tone; knowing she had just saved my life seemed to entertain her,

"Fine," I said gruffly, and I suddenly realized I had never replaced my mask; it was staring up at me from where I had dropped it before when I had wanted to scare one of the men into not shooting me. I immediately replaced it.

"You're bleeding," she said, noting my hands which were cut from the glass.

"I'm Fine" I said coldly, and she shrugged. "What have we got here?" she asked

"We are looking for four sacks, I already found two in this room," I indicated the room behind me, "and in these two," I pointed to the second door on the right and the one at the end of the hallway.

"So, downstairs?" CJ said, not waiting for me to respond before turning and heading down the staircase. I followed her.

It took much longer to find the remaining loot; the downstairs had considerably less obvious places where things could be hidden. I found two sacks in a hole in the wall behind a bureau in the living room. CJ found the last two in the wall of the kitchen.

We hurried back upstairs; all I wanted to do was get out of the damn house. We threw the sacks out of the window then dropped down ourselves. The eight foot fall hurt my legs slightly, but I did get a laugh out of watching CJ stumble and fall to the ground when she jumped; apparently falls were not her specialty.

We lugged the sacks back to the cab and climbed in. Dumas was still sitting in the back, and upon our arrival his face brightened considerably.

"I was only going to wait a few more minutes before I was going to leave you two for dead!"

"Oh ye of little faith" I mumbled, sinking down on my seat; I was very tired all of a sudden, I had not realized how hard my heart had been pumping until I saw escape in sight.

"I heard all the gunfire early on; I thought you two were dead,"

"That was our distraction," CJ said simply, and she sounded as tired as I felt. The cab started to pull away.

"Clever,"

"I'm glad you think so,"

Suddenly I remembered something, "One chased you, didn't he?" I looked at CJ,

"Yes, one chased me about three blocks down, but I killed him in the end,"

"What happened?" Dumas asked, sounding more interested than I was,

"He tackled me, but I managed to roll him off and break his neck," She spoke as though it was nothing more difficult that tying a shoe. I had to admit, I was impressed with the girl, she was tough and skilled at the job we were assigned to do.

We reached our house and I went to get out, but CJ did not move; she spoke to Dumas, "Is there any way I could get some water and bandages?"

"Are you hurt already?" Dumas asked, sounding slightly annoyed

"No, but Erik is," It was strange to hear her say my name; I did not think she had even remembered it. However it made me angry that she was asking Dumas for me; as though I was a little boy who needed to be taken care of.

"I don't need anything" I said harshly, stepping toward the cab, however CJ and Dumas ignored me.

"I will have someone bring it to you,"

"I am fine!" I practically yelled; where did they get the idea they could decide for me when I needed medical attention?

"Phann!" Dumas growled, "I am in charge here and I don't want you developing an infection, you are no good to me at anything less than peak physical condition, and if you are no good to me than I will not keep you around, if you catch my meaning," He was threatening to kill me, apparently he like us, but he only liked us when we made him look good. Fair enough.

I turned and walked irritably back to the basement room. I sat heavily down on the end of my bed and crossed my arms.

"What are you? A child?" CJ asked, laughing at my open display of displeasure; which only served to make me more infuriated. I did not look at her.

Tom, the guard from earlier, brought a bucket of water, a cloth, and several bandages, he left them with out a glance at CJ, apparently he had learned his lesson.


	6. An uncomfortable interlude

"Alright, give me your hands," CJ said to me, picking up the cloth and dunking it into the water.

"No!" I snapped, putting my hands behind my back, "You wicked little woman, I am not an invalid and I don't need you to take care of me,"

"Fine, be a child," She said mildly, dropping the cloth into my lap and turning to walk to her bed.

I pulled my hands out from behind my back and really looked at them for the first time in the light; we had been given two more candles, as a reward I assumed.

My hands looked terrible; there was dried blood all over them, it had seeped into every crack in my skin. Chips of glass were deeply embedded in them, and I found suddenly, with the danger of being killed gone, it hurt to move them. I groaned and CJ whipped around,

"Oh…" CJ ran back over to me and sank down on her knees in front of me; she grabbed my hands, I pulled them away but she adamantly pulled them back, and I gave up; if she wanted to bother with me than she could.

She grabbed the cloth from my lap; an action which was almost far too personal a touch; and wet it. She began dabbing the blood away in order to better see the fragments of glass still lodged in my palms.

CJ carefully pulled every glass shard from my hand; she was surprisingly gentle for an assassin. After cleaning and bandaging one hand she moved to the other. As she removed one piece of glass which was particularly large and particularly painful to extract; I flinched and grunted slightly,

"Child," CJ laughed at me.

"It is painful, is that hard to understand?"

"And you said you did not need to be taken care of," She said exasperatedly, not looking up at me as she concentrated on my hands. Finishing my other hand, she sat back on her heels,

"Alright, now take off your shirt,"

"Pardon?" I asked coldly, eyebrows raised, really, this girl was not right in the head.

"Take off your shirt, your back in bleeding," she moved behind me to see where the glass window had cut into my back,

"I think I can take care of that myself," I said in an icy tone,

"_You_? _Think_? I simply cannot believe it," CJ said, it seemed that no matter how cold I was to her, she just did not care.

"I…" I began, but she cut me off,

"I understand, you can't unbutton your shirt because of your hands, I'll do it," she moved her hands to my shirt, I quickly swatted her away. Not only was I perfectly capable of unbuttoning my own shirt, I did not like being touched. All my miserable life nobody had touched me, unless it was to beat me. I suppose that was why I had such a problem with it; I associated being touched with being beaten.

CJ slapped my face; there was that beating I had been waiting for. I grabbed her wrist, which of course was painful and I started to bleed again.

"Damn," I cursed, looking down at my hand,

"You deserved it," CJ said angrily, then she moved her hands to my shirt again. Apparently she would not be dissuaded. She looked directly into my eyes and dared me to stop her. She had eerily green eyes. After a moment CJ knew she had won and she dropped her eyes to watch her fingers as they undid my shirt.

It was extremely awkward; she was very close, almost in my lap. I looked straight ahead of me, trying not to think about her being so near. I did not like being around people, except for Christine, if it had been Christine here with me this would have been wonderful.

CJ was no Christine by any means, Christine had possessed an undeniable beauty, she had had soft, delicate features and innocent eyes and flowing hair. My heart still ached for her; why had she left me? I had only wanted her, that was all, why was I denied?

This girl I was working with now; this CJ Bradshaw, she had none of Christine's beauty; she was hard, straightforward, and completely devoid of any femininity. Unless you counted that beguiling look in her eyes; this thought came unbidden to me and it surprised me. I violently pushed the idea away; I was in love with _Christine, _there would never be another. However, I still felt my self flush as I looked down at the girl with the alluring eyes, No! not alluring…CJ's eyes were not alluring…not at all…

CJ reached the last button and then drew off my shirt; taking the cloth and moving behind me she began to wash the blood on my back away.

"You will be happy to hear it is not so severe," CJ's voice came from behind me, "If I had not save you life later I might actually have felt bad about suggesting going in through the window,"

She rose from her kneeling position behind me on the bed and started to walk to her bed. I was glad this over intimate interlude was finished. However as she passed, something caught my eye. In a flash, I reached out and grabbed the back of her shirt, pulling her back to me.

"What in the name of…" CJ spun around and glared at me

"I think it's your turn to be taken care of," I said "Turn around," I pulled her down on her knees in front of me and pulled her shirt up reveling a long gash on her back.

"Oh yes, I thought that guy did something when he tackled me," CJ said absently, holding her shirt in place just below her breasts,

"Apparently," I said, slowly whipping dried blood from her back. I did not quite know what I was doing or what had possessed me to try to help her. I guess, even though she was not Christine; who I realized was the only person I had ever liked, or loved, she was my partner, and she had saved my life. "Alright" I said, finishing.

She stood, "Thank you Erik," she said smiling at me. I did not smile back, but I did not hate her.

"Not at all," I said, lying down on my bed

"Don't you have something to say to me?" CJ asked innocently

"It this where I am supposed to thank you for saving my life?"

"Yes"

"Thank you for…that" in the end I could not quite bring myself to say it.

She laughed and shook her head. I watched her cross the room and collapse on her bed. "Overturn the world, change its character, yield to mad ideas, be even criminal -- but live." she said, closing her eyes.

"What?" I asked, caught off guard,

"In the end of the book, the Count says that to Morrel, right before Morrel drinks a potion that will kill him; of course it does not really kill him and he and Valentine are reunited, and then Haidee tells the Count she loves him and of course he loves her, so there you have it, a happy ending,"

"Why the hell did you tell me that!" I yelled at her, she was laughing hysterically, "I told you not to tell me!" I shouted, and I threw the wet cloth at her, hitting her in the shoulder. She simply laughed harder.

"Does it amuse you, to see me angry?" I glared at her

"Y..e..s.." She could barley speak she was laughing so hard

I gave up, she was insufferable. I sat back on my bed and slipped my mask off, to be honest it was rather uncomfortable; it rubbed painfully against my face every time I moved.

CJ was looking at me, "May I help you?" I asked bitterly, wishing she would stop staring.

"Can you get me a stake, a warm bed, and fresh clothes that don't smell like they were taken off a dead man?"

"No,"

"Than no, you can't help me,"

So she is trying to be clever, I thought, but she was still staring at me. "May I asked just what you are staring at?"

"Your face, it is quite…"

"Hideous?" I offered angrily, recovering my face with my mask,

"Don't do that…" CJ said in a surprisingly kind tone, "I was going to say 'unique'"

"Right," I growled, still covering my face with my mask,

"Come on, take the mask off, it must be uncomfortable," CJ said evenly, "I won't _look_ at you if you want to be stubborn about it."

"I'm not being stubborn, I just don't like to be gawked at," But I took the mask off anyway, I did not want to sleep with it on.

"Who is gawking? I was just…"

"Gawking," I repeated firmly

"You know," she said, turning to look at me, "it is really not so bad, I mean, yes that one side of your face is very ugly, but the rest of you makes up for it"

"What?" I asked sharply

"The rest of you…your strong, tall," she was surveying me shrewdly, and by the tone of her voice she was not embarrassed in the least to say those things to me. I however; I felt my face turn an angry shade of red and I looked desperately for something else to throw at her. Much to my chagrin, I could find nothing.

"What is wrong with you girl?" I asked annoyed, "are blind or just idiotic?"

"Neither; I'm just saying; your not half bad, you just have a bad half," It was obvious she thought she was being clever; however her word play did not amuse me.

I silently fumed; it was hard to say exactly what about her complementing me made me so infuriated, perhaps I was just used to people despising me and being disgusted by me, when someone was not I had no idea how to react.

"This is the part where you say something nice about me back," CJ said, lying back down on her bed and placing her hands behind her head.

"Something nice about me back" I responded; I knew it was not particularly witty but really what else could I say?

CJ turned her head to look at me for a moment, then she just shook her head and laughed. "I am too tired to deal with you tonight," she said, then she blew out her candle and rolled over so her back was to me. I could hear her breathing slow and I knew she was asleep.

I couldn't help but wonder why I was not asleep as well. I had been exhausted in the cab, but now that I was in my bed I could not seem to sleep.

Carefully I reached into my pocket. With one last glance at CJ to make sure she was sleeping; I pulled the ring I had taken out of my pocket.

Looking at it in the soft candle light, it glittered like moonlight on water; it was perfect. I knew in my heart I had taken it for Christine; my mind refused to let her go, even though physically I had. I knew I was grabbing for empty air when I thought of getting her back; but the illusion suited me.

Perhaps I could give her this ring, I thought, maybe that would bring her back, if she saw I had more to give her than a dark lair. I wanted to prove I was worthy of her. Working as an assassin for the Paris government was not exactly what I had in mind to show my worth, but it was something.

Placing the ring back in my pocket and snuffing out my candle, I formed a plan, if I could get on the favored side of the police than there was a chance I could move my way up, and eventually earn clemency and be allowed to pursue a life with out the police chasing me. Then I could become a composer, or an architect, and then I could show Christine I could give her just as good a life as the Vicomte could. Still milling over my desperate plans, I fell asleep.


	7. Catch, toss

I did not want to open my eyes the next morning; because I knew that when I did, I would again have to deal with CJ. However, I found I could not stand being so inactive as to just lay there and pretend to sleep. I had to do…something.

Sitting up and opening my eyes, I saw CJ lying in bed; my first thought was that she was still asleep; but then I saw she was throwing something up in the air and catching it.

"What on earth are you doing?" I asked her baffled.

"Oh, I didn't know you were awake,"

"I wasn't, until now," I my voice sounded irritated, as though she had done something to annoy me already even thought she really had not; I guess that was just the way my voice sounded, always irritated.

"Not a morning person are you?" She asked in a mild voice; my anger and constant irritation did not seem to faze her.

"What are you throwing?"

"Gun bullet,"

"Why? And where did you get it?"

"I put it in my pocket last night, by the way, if you ever are thinking, 'I should sleep with a bullet in my pocket,' reconsider, it hurts. Anyway, I just wanted something to do, I am up to 321 throws with out dropping this damn thing." She tossed the bullet in the air again and caught it.

I leaned against the wall which acted as the backboard of the bed and resigned myself to boredom and brooding, when CJ spoke again, "You know, if you are game, we could see how many times we could throw this thing back and forth with out dropping it,"

"And why would I want to participate in such a pointless game?" I don't know why I always had a hard time admitting I wanted to do what I wanted to do, but it seemed I could not admit that I was board out of my mind and any distraction would be welcome.

"Just a suggestion," CJ said in her usual undisturbed tone, then she went back to her little game.

Damn. It seemed that if I wanted to do something other than brood, I would have to ask her to let me play. I turned and threw my legs over the side of the bed; I was now facing CJ. "Alright," I said grudgingly, "Throw,"

CJ sat up and turned to face me, "I knew you would come around," she smiled,

"Should I keep count of do you want to?"

"I will," CJ threw me the bullet and I easily caught it; one.

"So, you were an assassin in, where did you say?" CJ asked, catching the bullet and throwing it again.

"Why do you care?"

"You are going to be my partner; I should know what you can and cannot do, easier to make plans if we know each other's strengths." She threw the bullet.

"Persia," catch toss

"Impressive, who did you work for?" catch toss

"The shah," I saw her eyes widen, catch toss

"That is the ruler of the country, yes?" catch toss

"Yes," catch toss

"That sounds like a decent job, how did you end up in Paris?" catch toss

"It was anything but a decent job," I said grimly, "it started out seemingly honorable, but the more I worked the more I got the feeling I was not serving the government and therefore the greater good of the population, but rather the frivolous whim of an addled mind." Catch toss.

"I see, so you had to eliminate some people who did not deserve it?" Catch toss.

I nodded. It was strange, this was the first person I had met who seemed to really understand what I had been through in Persia without me even having to fully explain. Catch toss.

"Your father was an assassin?" I asked CJ; she had had a point about knowing background, I wanted to be successful and knowing each others strengths and weaknesses would be helpful. Catch toss.

"Yes, first a pirate then an assassin, in England," Catch toss.

"So how did you come to Paris?" Catch toss.

"My father died when I was twelve, and I was supposed to have an aunt in Paris who was going to take care of me, all my father's money was taken by some enemies of his, but when I got to Paris, there was no aunt; she had died, and there was no one else so it was either become a whore or a thief and a killer." Catch toss.

"I see, what about your mother?" Catch toss.

"She died when I was born," Catch, toss, "What about yours?"

I fumbled slightly, "She did not like me very much," sloppy catch, toss.

"Because of your face?" catch, toss

"Yes, she…saw me as the biggest disappointment and greatest mistake in her life," catch, toss.

"Lot's of mothers are like that, there was this woman who used to live under me, she had about four kids, one night she just drowned two of them; the youngest two, because they would not stop crying," Catch, toss.

"Abysmal woman," I said, and something about the sad tale struck me; I was not alone in the suffering caused by my mother, other mother it seemed where able to detest their children, even if they did not possess my own special incentive for dislike. However, knowing that I had not been the only child abused by my parent in no way elated me. It only showed more clearly how twisted souls can become. This thought created a lump in my throat but I forced myself to speak, "How did you find out about it?" Catch, toss.

"The oldest one told me, she watched it happen, she said she tried to stop her mother, but then she had run away because her mother threatened she was next." Catch, toss.

"So what did you do?" catch, toss,

"What else could I do? The mother met the same fate as her murdered children," Catch, toss, I looked at CJ's face; there was pain in her eyes; it was a pain I knew, but few others ever noticed. It was not a common pain, not the sting of physical hurt of the heartbreak of lost love; it was the eternal, steady pain of seeing society from the bottom up; every perverse detail revealed, each wrongful act and every nature of deceit, and the pain of knowing it was near impossible to change. That was the pain that came from seeing what she had seen as an assassin, what I had seen. I knew that pain.

"You know, it was strange," CJ began, "when little Bernadette told me what her mother was doing, I was so angry and I really thought that killing her mother would bring some sort of justice, some sort of balance to the situation, but…"

"It doesn't, does it?" I cut in, understanding, "In the end, you have just killed someone else and no matter how deserving the victim, you just feel…you began trying to do something right, but the more you try to fix it the more you see there is no answer, you have still just killed another person and you still …" catch, toss.

"See their face at night?" Catch…toss.

I nodded; Catch…toss.


	8. Experiment Gone Wrong

Dumas came in some time later, but still much earlier than he had come on previous days. CJ and I were still playing our game; we were up to 3,002 tosses and catches with out dropping the bullet. We had discovered that to make it more interesting, we had to catch and throw with our weak hand only; I was using my left while she used her right.

To be honest, when we had begun I had not thought there was anything more ridiculous than tossing a bullet back and forth. I was used to much more intellectual ways of spending my time. However; we had set a goal at reaching 5,000 throws and the first time CJ had almost dropped the stupid bullet I found I gasped slightly; so it seemed I had been enthralled by a task that involved rudimentary tossing and catching. If the Paris Opera could see me now…

"What the hell is going on here?" Dumas asked, staring as the bullet went back and forth.

"We're up to 3,004," CJ said, not looking at Dumas and keeping her concentration on our game,

Dumas shook his head, "You two are resting tonight, time for someone else to prove they are worth keeping,"

"Wonderful," I said dryly; 3,005

"Just thought I would let you know," Dumas said simply and walked from the room.

"We really could have just killed him then, and run," CJ said in her usual frank tone.

"We could have, and then where would we go?" I asked; if we did run, than we would have the entire Paris police force after us, and I had no one left to run to, I was certain nobody from the opera would take me in. The Persian had had enough with me after the incident with the Vicomte; Madame Giry had turned her back on me when I sent a chandelier down on the stage. Christine was out of the question for obvious reasons; at least for now.

"I guess that is why we were chosen for this little experiment, we have no where else to go," CJ shrugged, the idea of no alternatives to this did not seem to bother her.

We reached our goal about and hour later; but we decided to keep going with the added difficulty of having to turn around and throw the bullet over the shoulder, then face front again in order to catch it. I had never felt more foolish, but it was something to pass the time.

Food was brought in; the same bread, butter and water feast we had had previously. It was dark outside and we were both lying down, preparing to sleep, when the door burst open. Dumas frantically entered, carrying a lantern and looking both furious and worried.

"Get up you two, let's go," He shouted, "Come on, move!"

"What?" I had been half asleep and I really did not want to move.

"I said now, come on!" Dumas grabbed CJ's arm and tugged her out of bed.

Standing, I saw two more guards, both armed; and one appeared to be the Tom fellow CJ had become friends with the our first day here. They were both looking as worried as Dumas.

We drudged out behind Dumas and exited the building.

"Alright," Dumas said once we were inside the cab, "Our other two assassins did not do so well, they ran, and then they took a house hostage, you have to get it back,"

"What?" I shook my head, this was insane,

"Did I stutter?" Dumas asked sharply, "You are not here to question me, if you will not do as I say, I'll send you back to prison and you can get your head chopped off, if that is what you desire, but not before you take one last victim, I think the newspapers will have a field day with the story of how you killed Madame Christine de Chagny in a crazed rage, after she was the one who asked us to stay your execution," Dumas narrowed his eyes at me,

I was speechless; he played dirty, he knew my weakness. I had no doubt in my mind he would do what he had just threatened; he was risking a great deal in forming this unit of assassin's and he would do anything to keep it from going awry.

We pulled up to a well tended, upper middle class house. There were two other police men standing in front of it, their cab parked there as well.

"Talk to them, keep their attention," CJ said to Dumas as we all got out, "Guns?" CJ asked Dumas and held out her hand,

Dumas shook his head, "I only had two, and I gave them to the two men inside,"

"So give us yours," I said to him angrily, and he handed CJ his gun.

CJ and I skirted the building as we heard Dumas yelling at the men to let the people inside the house go. I noticed several lights had been lit in the surrounding homes, and I wondered if we would have a crowd waiting for us when, if, we came out again.

I heard one man yell back that they would let them go when the police left. Judging from the sound of his voice, he was in the front of the house.

It seemed that no Paris architect was keen on building back or side doors; only windows high above the ground. Unfortunately, on this house the only window on the side of the house was out of even my reach.

CJ turned to me, "Want to give me a lift?"

"I don't suppose I have a choice," I knelt down and let her get on my shoulders, then I stood and she rose to stand so as to reach the window.

I heard her break the window with the gun butt and then a moment later I felt her weight lift off of me as she pulled herself up.

I waited on the ground for about fifteen minutes, before a rope hit me on the head. I tugged on the rope, it was secure. It was an agonizing climb up to the window, but I was used to climbing up ropes back stage at the opera; so I managed. When I reached the window I noted that she had only broken the top pane and the unlocked the window and crawled in. Apparently she had leared a lesson from the last window; breaking the glass would create jagged edges which cut into ones hands. CJ was holding the window open so I could climb in; she had tied the rope to the bed post, for we were standing in a bed room.

The room was dark, only the moon outside served to illuminate a small patch of carpeted floor in front of the window; however my eyes could see the room well. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the room; oak bed, matching set of drawers and one full length mirror. I quickly turned away from my reflection in the glass.

I untied the rope from the bed and then refashioned it into my favorite Punjab lasso. CJ stared at me; apparently she had never seen one before.

"You kill people with it."

"Clever,"

We could hear harsh voices coming from the downstairs, and we walked silently toward them. Descending the staircase we found ourselves in a small foyer, I peered into a room on my right, a living room; I could see another hallway lay beyond it.

In the living room, one man stood pointing his gun at a frightened looking man and woman; the woman was holding a small child in her arms.

"You take him, I will look for the other one," CJ whispered,

"Alright," CJ slunk off into another darkened room to our left and I crept to the door frame of the living room. I judged the distance between me and the man, gathered the right amount of rope, and quickly stepped into the room and threw the lasso over his head and pulled. To my delight, my skill at throwing a Punjab had not left me. The man slumped to the floor.

The family looked terrified, which was understandable considering. The baby was crying, the woman was shaking, and the man was sweating.

I looked at them for a moment, not sure what to say. I heard a noise and turned to see CJ had come into the room,

"There is no sign of the other man," she said

"Maybe he ran?" I offered, then CJ turned to the family,

"Was there another man holding you hostage?" She asked in a gentle but hurried voice,

"Yes," The man stuttered, "But I don't know where he went,"

"Listen to me," CJ calmly addressed the family, "you had better get outside while we search the house again," she turned to look at me, but then her eyes widened, "Look out!" she yelled, and shoved me to the ground, falling on top of me as I heard a bullet come from the door behind me. CJ rolled off of my and I sprang up, grabbing the rope and running after the second man.

He had entered the living room through the back hallway, shot and missed, and then had turned and fled. He made it down the hall and into the kitchen before my rope brought him down.

I dragged him to the living room; but CJ was gone and Dumas stood in the room along with the two armed men; Dumas was talking to the family. When I entered he turned to me,

"Ah…well done Phann, well done, go out to the cab,"

I nodded and left; I had not wanted to deal with the two dead men anyway. As I walked out of the house, I noticed that indeed there were spectators to our performance that night. A group of people, who I assumed were neighbors, were already talking excitedly in front of the house. The street was now illuminated by the surrounding houses; all of which had at least one lamp lit and in the doorways of most I could see the silhouettes of people standing curiously; peering out at the house I had just left.

The moment I left the house those who had been courageous enough to meddle in other people's business directly in front of the house ran up to me.

"What happened?"

"Are Charles and Isabel alright?"

"What about little Yvette?"

The last thing I wanted to do was speak to them; I was pushing my way to the cab but they were incessant. Finally I gave an angry, short reply;

"The family is fine, their captors have been killed," To my disappointment, this answer did not serve to satisfy them, it only excited them further and prompted more questions;

"Who were they?"

"Did _you_ save them?"

"Why are you wearing a mask?"

At this there was a general murmuring and nodding; apparently they all wanted a reason for my strange dress; I simply turned and glared at the man who had asked; he cowered and the crowd became silent. I turned to head back to the cab, then one more person decided to ask one more question,

"Where you shot too?"

I spun around, "What does that mean?" I asked crossly, "Was I shot _too_?"


	9. A Trying Night

"The girl that came out, she was dressed like you," the man who had spoken had now stepped forward and was speaking nervously. He was in his night clothes and was fidgeting with his bed cap in his hands. The look on his face suggested that he thought that I was some wild beast who might charge him if he said the wrong word,

"She was dressed like you, and she was bleeding fairly badly…"

I did charge, but not at the man; I dashed the small distance to the cab, not even noticing that the people around me were parting like the Red Sea.

I pulled open the cab door and jumped in. CJ was holding her shoulder, but I could see blood running through her fingers. The bullet which had missed me had hit her. Now she was pressing a cloth over the wound, trying to suppress the bleeding.

I pulled her hand away and moved her body so the wound was in the light of a gas lamp outside and I could see it better. It was a large, red hole in her shoulder. Feeling her shoulder blade, I found no exit wound; the bullet was still in her. It must have hurt like the devil; CJ tried to sit back and raise the cloth again to her wound, but she could barely even sit up.

Moving next to her, I wrapped one arm around her waist and let her lean back on me, then I held the cloth to her shoulder. Dumas returned to our cab and we started to move. Dumas stared at us,

"How does she feel?" Dumas asked,

"How the hell should I know?" I responded angrily, I hated to think that she could die,

When we arrived again at the house, CJ struggled to free herself from my arm and walk unaided to the basement; apparently she was just as stubborn as I had been about the glass in my hand. However, she swayed after several steps; the loss of blood making her dizzy.

I caught her as she began to fall, picking her up and carrying her to the basement room. Dumas said something about fetching a doctor, and I lay CJ down on the bed. It was completely dark in the room; but I could still see she was in pain. She was turning white, but it did seem that the bleeding was slowing.

As I watched her, I knew why it was I did not want her to die; she had saved _my_ life, it would be my fault if she died; my fault because I had not been paying attention to the other entrance. I had been responsible for many deaths in my life, but I did not want to be responsible for hers; not for hers.

"This…is not…how I …imagined my night," CJ said with a small laugh,

"You should not have done that, you should have let the bullet hit me," I said angrily,

"That…is….all you…can say?" she whispered, "I saved you…again…and all you can…say…is you were wrong?"

I knew what she wanted me to say, "Thank you for saving my life," I said stonily, somehow even now I found it hard to thank her. I did not want to owe her anything, least of all my life.

Dumas did not return. Instead, a man carrying a doctor's bag and several candles entered our room. The man lit the candles and the darkness of the room slunk away from its fire. I studied the 'doctor.' He was mid height with dirty hands and lank greasy hair, he did not seem like a doctor at all. He placed the candles on the floor next to CJ's bed and moved over her; opening his bag and removing a long set of wicked looking tweezers.

In order to see the wound, the man removed CJ's shirt, CJ whimpered slightly, and I immediately averted my eyes; however looking at the 'doctor,' he did not share in my chivalry. The 'doctor' was looking unabashedly at her bare chest. Then, in a poorly executed attempt at appearing to need leverage to remove the bullet; the doctor pushed his palm down against her breast. I heard her cry out softly and I had had enough.

Grabbing the doctor by the shirt collar; I tossed him hard against the wall of the basement. I pulled the sheet from my bed and covered CJ with it, then I took the tweezers. Peering at her shoulder wound, I pushed the tweezers into it and felt the tip hit something metal. I turned them and grabbed hold of the bullet, then pulled it quickly out. CJ groaned, and looking at her face I could see her eyes where bright and filled with tears of pain.

In the doctors bag I found the makings for a bandage and hurriedly wrapped her shoulder, which had begun to bleed again. Stepping back to look at her, she seemed oddly helpless; unable to move, pale faced and half naked. I could still see her nipples, hard from the chill of the basement, through the thin sheet, and I picked her shirt up and placed it on her as well.

I spun around, I was ready to tell the 'doctor' exactly what a miserable, wicked, foul waste of human flesh he was, and also give him reason to see a real doctor himself; but the room was empty. That slimy, crude, lecherous creature had slipped out of the room while I had tended to CJ. Moving to the door, I tried to pull it open. It was locked; I banged my shoulder against it in an attempt to force it open, but it would not budge.

Walking over to CJ it was apparent that she had fallen asleep, or passed out from pain. There was nothing more I could do for her, so I fell into my own bed. It was with angry thoughts of what I would tell Dumas the next time I saw him that I passed into a fitful sleep.


	10. Death and something else

Upon waking the next morning, I saw CJ had had just as uneasy a sleep. She had turned in the night, and the sheet covering her chest had slid down, revealing her once again. I walking silently to her, telling myself I would simply pull the sheet back into position. However, as I reached her, it occurred to me this was the closest I had ever been to touching a woman. Men my age had usually been with many women, but I had never had the pleasure.

It occurred to me I could very easily over power her, if I wanted her, but that was a sick idea; I knew I never would, she was my partner; she had saved my life; it was my fault she was in this situation, I could not hurt her further. I pulled the sheet back into position.

My movement must have been less stealthy than I had intended, for CJ's eye's snapped open and she started. I pulled away quickly; she looked at me and then around the rest of the room, and she relaxed; re closing her eyes she spoke,

"It is only you," she said, and I was surprised to hear relief in her voice; not many people were relived to find that they were in a room alone with me.

"I did not mean to wake you…" I said, returning to my bed now that my job was finished. CJ shook her head in response, indicating perhaps that she was not bothered by my actions. I thought this would be all she would say, but there was more,

"I want to thank you for what you did last night, about that man, and for the bullet; I mean usually," her voice grew stronger, "usually I am used to the way men treat me, as something they have the right to take when they want, but last night…I could not even move, I guess I just expected a little more show of decency, just a little," she shook her head slightly, "Funny how the assassin is the one with the sense of decency,"

I stayed silent, she was right. It was acceptable to most men to treat women as simply a means for pleasure, however last night CJ had been an assassin. She had been working to free hostages and cover Dumas' mistake, she had deserved more respect than what she had been given.

"How does your shoulder feel?" I asked, needing to talk about something else.

"Stiff," CJ responded, rolling her shoulder slightly. I suddenly had a thought and strode back over to her, undoing the bandage and checking the wound,

"This will need proper cleaning at some point," I said in a mater of fact tone,

"Any ideas about where I am supposed to get clean water?" CJ asked in a bitter voice; but she did not seem angry with me, rather angry with the situation.

"Perhaps _Tom_ would bring you something," I suggested sarcastically, though I did believe that he might actually have brought her something if she had asked; I believed he was quite fascinated by the woman who had knocked him to the ground.

CJ stared at me, "Is this you being humorous?" She asked me coldly; I supposed by her tone she would not be asking Tom for anything,

"I am trying," I offered lightly, re wrapping her shoulder,

"Stop trying," She responded quickly, though I knew she did not really mean it. True enough, my sense of humor was grossly underdeveloped and therefore not terribly amusing; however that was not the point.

It seemed that where the relationship between CJ and I was concerned, we could send any insult or sarcastic remark flying at the other if we wished, and the receiving party would understand; we never really meant it. Underneath I believed we both shared affection for the other; though I would have never admitted it.

"Would you mind," CJ said, though her voice was not irritated, "turning around while I put this shirt back on?"

I turned around and walked back to my bed. I still faced the wall and waited for CJ to speak.

"You can look now," I heard her say a moment later, and I turned and sat down on the bed. Looking over at CJ, I saw she had managed to sit up; her back against the wall. I could not help but feel a sense of relief, she would be alright.

Indeed, she was looking much better in the blurry morning light; the color had returned to her face, and her eyes were no longer clouded over; they shone green and bright. I realized I was staring and I looked away.

CJ was not watching me; she was gazing at the small patch of light on the grimy floor.

"We really are getting a raw deal, aren't we?" CJ said suddenly shifting her gaze to me. "We are coerced into this little experiment, then made to do all the dastardly and dangerous tasks the police don't want to do, and for what? I think the two men last night had the right idea,"

I could tell she was bitter, and I did not blame her, but still, if she decided to run, my job would become much harder,

"You think the right idea is to get killed?" I asked lightly, hoping she was not seriously considering making a bid for freedom. After the threat Dumas had made to Christine's life, I _had_ to stay. He would have her killed, then have me blamed for the murder. I could not let that happen. However, if CJ ran, there was a good chance I would be sent to find and kill her, and I could not imagine doing that either.

"No, of course not, I just wish we did not have to do this," She shook her head.

It occurred to me then that CJ was a clever girl, and if she had wanted to devise an escape she could have; but she had not. CJ most likely had a 'Christine' as well.

"What is he holding over your head?" I asked her curiously, and I admit I was surprised by my own interest; usually the affairs of others meant nothing to me, but I had never been around someone as much as CJ, and I found her life was more like mine than I had thought possible.

CJ looked at me and offered a half smile, "Death, just as with you,"

"Death and something else," I said, I knew there was something else, I could see it in her eyes.

"Yes, I guess there is no reason not to tell you," She brushed a piece of blond hair which had fallen into her eyes out of her face, "After I first came to Paris, I spent most of my time picking pockets and committing other devious acts of theft; but when I was thirteen I was caught, and at first I thought I would be alright. The man who caught me was a nobleman named Richard Cromwell. I had been stealing his pocket watch when he grabbed my hand. Instead of telling the police about what I had done he brought me to his home. I thought he and his wife wanted to adopt me, but they did not want a child. He wanted…a slave of sorts."

I watched her spellbound. Her gaze was toward the floor, and she had brought her knees to her chest.

"He locked me in a small bedroom when he did not…want me," her voice was bitter and I watched her eyes narrow, but despite an outward show of strength, I sensed it was a hard story for her to tell.

"He beat me, many times, and then he would…well…"

"I understand," I interjected quickly; I did not need her to say he had raped her.

"I thought I could stand it, until he started to let his friends use me…and then his brother…it was too much. One night, after his brother was finished with me, he threw me so hard into a mirror it broke. I used one of the shards and slit his throat; first time I ever killed a man," Her face made an expression of sadness beyond tears, "I ran away that night; of course Cromwell wanted to find me; sent men looking everywhere for me, but I had never told him my real name. That made it harder for him to find me. Somehow Dumas realized who I was and he threatened to tell Cromwell my name and where he had last seen me, if I ever tried to escape,"

She shuttered involuntarily at the thought of being found by this Richard Cromwell man, and I understood her terror. Even though CJ was no longer thirteen, and most likely able to defend herself against her former enemy, the memory of her captivity was too terrifying to imagine enduring again.

I understood. My mother had locked me in the cellar from my infancy right through until the day I finally left. When I look back on the time I spent with her; I believe she had been so shocked at my appearance after my birth it made her go a bit mad.

She had never given me a name; she had never really acknowledged she was my mother. I had been put into the cellar; out of sight where she could pretend I did not exist. However she knew I did exist; and when she could no longer perpetuate her delusions about me, she would throw open the cellar door and grab me; turning me around so my back was to her, so she could not ever see my face. She would yell that I was evil, wicked, a menace, a monster, and a bad little creature that she needed to punish.

I _was_ punished. I never saw exactly what it was that she beat me with; I was always turned in the opposite direction, but it hurt as blow after blow fell. I would stand there; just hoping I would lose consciousness soon so I would no longer have to hear her voice screaming at me or feel the pain of her chastisement.

As an adult, I still feared meeting this woman again; even though she was most likely dead and if I ever did see her I certainly had the strength to defend myself; something I had lacked as a child.

However, I knew that if I ever came face to face with my mother, I would not shoot her, strangle her, hit her, or even yell at her. I would cower away; I would because I still remembered every dark hour spent in the cellar, every crack of the cement walls which acted as homes to pairs of glowing eyes which were my only friends in the dark. I remembered each rise and fall of her hand, and I remembered every word she yelled. I could still hear her voice.

"I know it sounds foolish," I snapped out of my reverie when I realized CJ was talking again. "I should not be afraid of him; he is one old, rich, vile man, I should kill him myself, but I can't help it,"

I paused for a moment, then,

"I understand, I do not think you are being foolish," I said, and CJ mistook something in my voice for insincerity,

"No you don't, you can't! But believe me, I would get rid of this fear if I could, I just don't want you to…to think any less of me because I am afraid of a man I knew years ago…"

"I do understand," I said firmly and a bit crossly; I could not help but be irritated when things where assumed about me which were not true, "I was locked in a cellar once,"

"For how long?" CJ asked, and it was clear by the tone of her voice she expected be to say one hour or some other insignificant amount of time,

"Twelve years," I said, and I watched as her skeptical expression changed to one of shock,

"Why on earth where you locked in a cellar for twelve years?"

"Nobody wanted to look at me," I said uncertainly, I was not sure if I wanted to tell her my whole story,

"Did they feed you?" She asked, and her voice was concerned,

"Well of course I was fed! I could not live for twelve years on nothing! And clearly I _am_ alive so I must have been fed! Don't be daft!" For some reason the concern in her voice had angered me; I never liked the idea of people caring about me; it brought the world to close and the risk of getting hurt by it increased.

"I was only…" CJ began but I interrupted her,

"There is no need to apologize,"

"I was not going to," She smiled for the first time in quite awhile; it was another example of the beauty of our relationship that she was smiling; she knew I had not meant to snap.

"Fair enough," I raised the edges of my mouth ever so slightly; it was not really a smile, but it was the closest I had ever come to one.

"So the marks on your back, are they from…the time you spent in the cellar?" I stared at her a moment and then I realized; she had seen my scared back when she had washed the blood off of it after it had been cut by glass, "I did not want to say anything about it," CJ said, "I thought you might be angry if I mentioned them,"

I nodded; it was true, had CJ said anything about the marks on my back at the time she had seen them, I would have flown into a rage, not wanting to remember or talk about that part of life.

Now however; I found I trusted her with my story,

"Yes, mostly the scars on my back are from the cellar,"

"How old were you?"

"I went in right after I was born and left when I was twelve,"

CJ looked shocked, "What kind of wretched worm would lock up a baby in a cellar?"

I looked down at the floor and snorted, "My mother," I said listlessly.

CJ said nothing and I did not look at her. By the gasp at my last comment I knew she was amazed. I was amazed as well; I could not believe I had just shared a memory such as that. I did not realize CJ had left her bed until she was standing in front of me.

She sat down next to me on my bed. I immediately felt awkward; her arm was touching mine.

I realized she was staring at me and I looked into her vivid green eyes. I did not see pity, or fear, it was hard to say really what I saw. However I dared to think, for the first time, I saw understanding.


	11. Returning Ghost

Authors note: OK, history for this chapter, just a heads up, I am going mostly off of the original book here; meaning the chandelier went down, but the opera did not burn to ashes, and Erik was never unmasked in front of everybody,

Also, I love reading reviews from people, so feel free to tell me what you think!

Chapt. 11

"There are some things about the way people act," CJ said shaking her head sadly, "I will never understand,"

"Neither will I," I stated

"Well," CJ let out a small laugh, "When I figure out the workings of humanity I will tell you,"

"Wonderful, can you also tell me the meaning of life?" I asked sarcastically, causing CJ to laugh,

"I can't tell you that! who do I look like? God?" She smiled at me and I stared at her,

"I think if you do look like God quite a few people are going to be very upset," CJ was laughing harder now,

At that moment, CJ suddenly moved even closer to me. I was so paralyzed by shock I did not stop her as she leaned back against me; resting her head on my shoulder.

I felt a sense of panic; what was I supposed to do? I wanted to pull away, but it seemed I was frozen. I sat in silence, with my body tense.

After the first few moments, I realized it was sort of pleasant; to share contact with another human that was not forced or quickly broken.

I was just beginning to relax when our door opened. Dumas strode in and quickly surveyed us.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asked briskly,

I had to restrain CJ to keep her from jumping up and strangling Dumas then and there.

"No," I said icily as I tried to keep CJ at bay. She was writhing wildly in order to free herself from my grasp, and suddenly one of her elbows collided with my chin and I let go of her. So much for pleasant contact. CJ did not lose a second; as soon as I let her go she jumped up.

In a flash CJ let her fist fly; connecting with the jaw of the bewildered police man. It all happened so fast, I doubt Dumas even realized he had been hit until he was falling.

Dumas struggled to his feet;

"What the bloody hell was that about?" Dumas yelled angrily as he stood. His face was red and his eyes bulging,

"Last night," CJ said coldly, her voice was frighteningly calm. I got off the bed and stood behind her,

"Last night was your job!" Dumas growled, "I did not keep you alive because I wanted a friend, I did it so I would not have to lose innocent, hard working police men on hard jobs, if you cannot meet my demands I will get rid of you,"

"Nobody is innocent," CJ narrowed her eyes but said nothing more. Dumas took a little step back. I had to admit I would have as well if I had been him. CJ had a very wicked look in her eerily green eyes; a calculating glare which promised that CJ was building a plan. A wicked, evil plan.

Dumas blinked; regaining his composure he took a paper out of his back pocket and handed it to me. I stared down at it. It was a copy of the newspaper, and the title headline caught my eye. It read; Disappearances, Is the Ghost of the Opera To Blame?

I looked up at Dumas, eyes wide;

"What _is_ this?" I asked, bewildered. What ever it was, I knew I was not to blame, CJ had been with me the whole time, she would vouch for me. She was not the best alibi witness, but at least it was something.

"I should be asking you that, but I know where you have been while this was going on, so _I_ don't know what all this is about, but you are going to find out,"

CJ moved beside me and looked at the paper in my hands. She read the headline with a furrowed brow. It occurred to me she had not idea who I had been; now it seemed I would have to tell her.

"Follow me," Dumas said after a moment, motioning to both of us. Neither of us moved. "Come, take your things, you are moving to a different room,"

CJ and I stared at each other for a moment, "Why?" we asked at the same time.

"Do you like it down here?" Dumas asked exasperatedly

"What concern is that of yours?" I asked, honestly wondering

"I am trying to do you two a favor!" Dumas said angrily, "Just follow me,"

CJ and I grabbed the few items in the room; the books, candles, and the gun bullet. We cautiously followed Dumas up the stairs to the street level. Instead of going outside, we went up another flight of stairs to the second floor.

Dumas opened a door to our right and revealed a room which had been set up similarly to the one in the basement. There were two beds; both looked shabby and uncomfortable, but they did seem slightly less disgusting than the ones in the basement. In fact the whole room had a less repulsive feel to it; I guess that was the favor.

"This was the room of the two men you killed last night," Dumas informed us, and a slight shutter ran down my spine as I thought about the men who had once occupied this room; men I had killed. They had deserved it, after threatening a family and shooting CJ, but it still felt wrong.

"Why did they get this room and we got stuck in the basement?" CJ asked angrily,

"They were better men than the two of you, their crimes they were imprisoned for were less sever, I trusted them more,"

"Well, I am glad you are such an excellent judge of character, or else that might have turned out badly," CJ said sarcastically.

Dumas ignored her, "Here," he handed me flints for lighting the candles, "I will come back again tomorrow, and you can tell me about what you think is causing these disappearances at the opera," without another word he left. I heard the lock on the door click shut and Dumas was gone.


	12. I was the Opera Ghost

I sank down on the bed nearest to me and studied the paper in my hands.

"What is he talking about?" CJ asked, slightly indignant.

I held up the paper and pointed to the large, bold headline about the Opera Ghost. She sat next to me on the bed in order to study the paper better. I felt the wave of awkwardness sweep through me as she sat by me again, but there were more pressing things on my mind.

"Why would Dumas think you would know anything about this," CJ asked as she scanned the article, "Did you work at the opera once?"

"In a way," I responded, "I _was_ the Opera Ghost,"

"You pretended to haunt the opera?"

"Yes, and it worked fairly well, until," I shook my head, I would tell her the whole story, but at the moment I wanted to concentrate on the article, "Wait, I will tell you in a moment," CJ looked impatient, but I could not worry about that.

The article read as follows:

_This morning Opera offices report that there was another disappearance after the Friday night's production. Mademoiselle Rebecca Duval, another member of the ballet, has not been seen since the final act of the opera. Her disappearance correlates with the strange vanishings of four other ballerinas._

"Erik," I ignored CJ,

_The first record of a disappearance at the opera is of course that of Madame Christine de Chagny, who vanished from stage; however that was explained by the arrest of her kidnapper, none other than the man who clamed to be the 'Opera Ghost.' These recent disappearances are so similar, that with no other explanation in sight, they have opera members crying 'the ghost is back!' _

"Erik,"

_The 'ghost' is referring to the above mentioned man who once crept into the caverns beneath the opera and terrorized the cast and crew, and eventually kidnapped Madame de Chagny. However, this man was arrested and executed, leaving members of the Paris Opera to wonder if this time, the 'ghost' could be real. _

"Erik,"

_When questioned, managers stated that they have no reason to believe the 'ghost' has returned and that they are sure the police will find a reasonable explanation for the mysterious vanishings. However, not all cast and crew members share in this optimism. Many have threatened quitting their posts in order to find safer employment. At this point, police have refused to comment formally on the state of the investigation_.

"Erik!" I was finished so I finally looked up,

"Yes?" I asked, this whole situation had taken me off guard and I was still reeling a bit.

CJ looked exasperatedly at me, "Are you going to explain, anything? Like maybe this Opera Ghost affair?"

I sighed, "I told you, I _was_ the Opera Ghost,"

"But how is that possible, you are not a ghost,"

"Congratulations on figuring that out,"

"Remember when I told you not to try to be amusing?" CJ narrowed her eyes at me, but she was smiling,

"No," I said, "However, if you want to hear about the Opera,"

"Yes tell me," she interrupted,

"I am trying,"

"Go ahead,"

"Alright," I began, "I was hiding from some men who had followed me from Persia to Paris when I came upon the opera. I was underneath the structure; everyone knows there are caverns underneath it, but I do not think anyone had ever really bothered to explore them. It is a giant maze down there; and I made it my home. I realized I could stay there forever without having to face the world again. Then I heard the music. I made a habit of going up to watch the performances. I realized I could get them to leave a box open for my, and even pay me,"

"How did you do that?" CJ interrupted again,

"Would you be quiet so I can explain?"

"Sorry, I won't say another word," CJ closed her mouth,

"I don't believe you for a second," However, CJ remained silent, so I started again,

"Alright, what was I saying?" I asked,

"You were going to tell me how you made them pay you and leave you an open box," CJ responded and I smiled;

"I knew you would not last more than a moment being quiet,"

"Damn you!" she cried in a mock indignant voice, "You tricked me!"

"Not very hard to do,"

"I will get you back, know that," she said seriously to me; however any threat her serious voice could have posed was ruined by the wry smile on her face,

"I will sleep with one eye open,"

"You better," CJ threatened, "Now, the story please,"

I nodded, "I wrote notes to the managers of the opera, and stated what I wished. If my demands were not met, I would make their life at the opera very difficult. Dropping things, cutting ropes, and various other acts. As I said, it worked quite well, for a time,"

"So who is Christine? It was the name you used when we killed Monsieur Wollstonecraft, and then Dumas threatened to kill someone named Christine, and there was a Christine in the newspaper article, who is she?" CJ stared at me,

"She is the reason I am here and not still below the opera," CJ waited for me to continue, "I first saw her years ago; she was so lonely when she first arrived at the opera, she reminded me of myself. I taught her to sing, and I fell in love with her; and she fell in love with my voice. I told her I was her Angel of Music, and she loved her Angel," my voice took on a wistful tone as I spoke of my Christine.

"Wait, you told her you were…an angel?" CJ furrowed her brow,

"Yes," I said, coming partially out of my dreamlike state,

"And she believed you?"

"Yes, of course," I said irritated, something in CJ's voice suggested she thought my love story was a bit ridiculous,

"Was she daft?" CJ asked bluntly

"No!" I cried angrily, "Yes was perfect!"

"She thought an _angel_ was talking to her, you know, I knew a man who thought God was talking to him, of course, he was as crazy as they come…"

"Don't call her crazy!" I said angrily, "I love her!"

CJ blinked, and her voice softened a bit, "That is why you kidnapped her?"

"Yes,"

"So…" CJ paused uncertainly, "What…um…happened?"

"Raoul de Chagny stole her away from me," I said crossly, I knew it was not entirely true, but it was how I felt,

"How did he do that?"

"Well, you must understand, Christine thought she was in love with _him_, but she was wrong, she couldn't love _him_, she just _thought_ she did," I said sadly,

"Why did she _think_ she was?"

"Because he was her childhood friend, she thought she would be better off with him and I let her go because at the moment it was true," I shook my head, "But I can change," I could hear the wild desperateness in my voice, "I can be better for her, I can be worthy of her, and when she sees that I will get her back,"

CJ just shook her head at me, "You really believe that?"

I said nothing; I knew I was being outlandish in thinking I could win back Christine, but I could not help it, her voice was still in my head.

"Alright," CJ sighed, "So, someone else is taking over your job as resident Opera Ghost?"

"So it seems," I said, glad the conversation had turned away from Christine. It was painful for me to talk about her.

"Do you have any idea who is doing this?"

I shrugged, "I have no idea,"

"So why did Dumas want your opinion?"

"If he believes who ever is responsible for the disappearances is hiding under the opera; I know that area best," I trailed off,

"So what you are saying is that by this time tomorrow you and I will be in the caverns of the opera searching, for what? Five ballerinas and a madman?"

"I suppose so,"

"Can't wait," CJ said dryly, and she moved to the other bed and lay down, "What do you think of our new home here?" She asked me suddenly,

I had still been concentrating on the paper in my hands and the story it told when she asked me, and I shook myself out of my Christine induced daze, "I guess it is slightly better than the basement," I said looking around.

Truthfully I had not really looked carefully at the room; it was now covered with lengthening shadows as night approached. The room was small, the two beds CJ and I now occupied where inches apart. However, it was less dingy; it was a slight improvement.

"Does it make you feel odd to think this was the room of the two men who died last night?" CJ asked bluntly,

"Yes," I admitted listlessly,

"Me to," CJ said in a similar tone, and then she yawned, "I hope I get the chance to take a bath tomorrow," she said offhandedly,

"You could use one," I said without thinking,

"You really are charming," CJ responded dryly, and then she closed her eyes.

In several minutes, her breathing slowed, and she rolled from her back to her side. Through the window streamed the misty white moonlight; illuminating parts of the room.

CJ was near to me; I could see her clearly. With her bright green eyes closed and her sarcastic voice silent, I would never have guessed she was the person she was. Sleeping, she just looked young, and alone. I had never noticed that about CJ; she was older than Christine, but she was still young; too young to be involved in all of this.

I looked down at the paper in my hands. It was my past, resurfacing. I wanted a part of my past to return to me; I wanted the part with Christine back. I did not want this part. This was the part I was glad to leave behind; the lonely, dark abyss beneath the opera. Now I had no choice. I _was_ returning.


	13. A Blake Future

Authors note: Hey everybody! I hope you all like this part of the story that I am setting up; but I am not quite sure about it, so write and tell me what you think, if any part seems not to make sense! Or just give me your opinion!

Chapt. 13

True to his word, Dumas returned the next afternoon. He was accompanied by CJ's friend Tom, and another man I did not recognize, though he did look oddly familiar.

Although I really knew nothing about this third party; I was sure I hated him the moment I saw him. He was young and his appearance was what I believed the fairer sex would have called handsome. His dress was a more expensive version of what Dumas was wearing; he seemed young to be a police captain, but then again, if he had the means, age and talent were no object.

"Erik Phann, CJ Bradshaw," Dumas said briskly as he entered, "This is my fellow police captain; Blake Le Roy," By the tone of his voice when he said the name, he did not like Le Roy any more than I did.

We both nodded at Le Roy; however that was all the etiquette I was planning on showing him. To my disgust, he was more bound to ceremony,

"Wonderful to meet you both, my colleague here has told me you have both been doing a fantastic job," Le Roy possessed none of Dumas's businesslike manner, and I also believed he possessed little wit. In contrast to the straight, serious expression Dumas wore; Le Roy's face was drawn in a wide, white smile, and his eyes were glittering as though he were being introduced to two old family friends. Anyone would spot him for a fool.

He extended a hand; which I looked at as though he were extending a repulsive pile of animal droppings toward me.

"Le Roy's family have been very appreciative to the police over the years," Dumas said in his usual rough tone, and then he kicked the side of the bed I was sitting on, "So show some gratitude,"

I hated politics because it provided for the assurance that sooner or later, you would have to feign respect toward an utterly undeserving person. Still, I stood; noting to my delight as I did so that I was quite a bit taller than this Le Roy fellow. I quickly took his hand and shook it once, and then hurriedly released it.

CJ stood as well; and it amused me that she two was at least an inch taller than Le Roy. She extended a hand, which he took and raised, in a nauseatingly gentlemanly gesture, to his lips. CJ turned red immediately.

"My friend Eugene here," he indicated Dumas and I started a bit at the use of his first name; which had only just been revealed and I could understand why, "told me you were very talented, but he failed to mention what a striking beauty you are," I had not thought it was possible for the shade of CJ's face to deepen after Le Roy had kissed her hand, but at these words I was proven wrong and CJ turned a violent crimson hue.

"That is very…kind of you to say," CJ with a small, embarrassed smile. I was amazed, I had never seen her being anything but wry and sharp; suddenly she was reminding me of the giddy ballerinas at the opera. I rolled my eyes slightly; what it was about charming complements which made even the most level headed woman turn into a flighty girl I would never understand.

"Excuse me," Dumas cleared his throat, "I believe we came here with a specific purpose; Phann, what do you think of our little problem?"

"I don't know anything about this," I said, picking up the paper Dumas had given me, "Just because I used to live under the opera does not mean I can tell who, if anyone, is under it now."

Dumas nodded, "I thought you might say something like that; so I suppose I am going to have to level with you," He stared straight at me, "When Raoul de Chagny came to the police, he had no idea how to get back down to the place where you were living without ending up in what he called a 'torture room.' He did however know the name of a man who might be able to help; 'the Persian,' he called him. Now, of course, this man was once a policeman himself, and we quickly found his address and were going to question him as to where you might be; and you know how that worked out,"

I grimaced; I had walked right out of the daroga's apartment and into the hands of the police. After the description de Chagny had given the police they could not help but notice my mask; I had been trapped damn easily in the end.

As I thought about that night; about seeing the police and realizing it was over, about being bound and shoved for the first time into a police cab, I remember all the leering faces of the police men lit by the flickering gas light. Then I realized why I had thought Le Roy was familiar; he had been there that night. I glared at Le Roy; if I had not hated him before, I sure hated him now.

"By that warm look of friendship you just gave Blake," Dumas said sarcastically, "I am guessing you realize he was there the night you were arrested," I nodded.

"Anyway," Dumas continued, "When all this business at the opera started, quite soon after your arrest actually, Blake went back to your friend and he explained a way to get to your lair; the perfect hiding place for our perpetrator. Blake had a very difficult time getting down there, and they never quite found your home by the lake which the Persian described, but we did find something; the body of the first ballerina who disappeared,"

Dumas paused for a moment. "She was dead, obviously, and let me just say by the marks on her body she did die pleasantly," He shuttered slightly, "Whoever is doing this in down there, and we can't get to him. I have reviewed all the evidence, and we have _nothing_, nobody in the opera has been any help because they all can't get past the idea that it is a ghost. Even Blake here was telling superiors he was starting to believe this ghost theory. That was when I had to tell him about you,"

I noticed that Le Roy flushed slightly when Dumas mentioned his considering attributing the disappearances to a ghost. He had a good reason to feel embarrassed; anyone who actually believed a ghost was committing crimes needed to have their head examined immediately.

"So when are we going down there?" CJ asked Dumas, looking sidelong at Le Roy and smiling slightly again. I thought I was going to be sick.

"That is a problem; I wanted you two to go down today, however Le Roy informed me there was a cave in in the main tunnel leading down from the road; it will not be cleared until tomorrow,"

I shook my head, "There _is_ more than one way to get down there," I said sardonically, then I wondered why the hell I was in such a rush to go back down there; I would not die in excited anticipation if I had to wait another day to go back to the house by the lake.

"It is not _my_ call," Dumas said, not bothering to hide the bitterness and anger in his voice,

"That is right, it was _my_ decision," Le Roy said proudly, "I am in charge of this investigation; as the opera house is in my jurisdiction, and I am not sending anyone else down there until it is as safe as possible; we already lost one man," His eyes clouded over, "He fell down a shaft and broke his skull open, terrible really,"

"Yes, we were all very upset, and Le Roy won't take any more 'un necessary risks,' the tone in Dumas's voice indicated clearly that he thought Le Roy was ridiculous.

Le Roy _was_ ridiculous. He was worried about safety when he was sending us to look for a crazed murderer. However, his idiocy made no difference to me if it meant delaying the trip to the underground caverns.

"So, we will see you tomorrow," Dumas said, turning to leave, "Tom can bring you food for tonight," he said as an afterthought.

"It was nice to meet you both," Le Roy said in a sickeningly charming voice, "If I may say, it had been especially delightful to meet you, Mademoiselle Bradshaw," He took her hand to his lips again,

"CJ is fine, Monsieur," She said, flushing

"Well then you must call me Blake," He said, and with one last squeezed of her hand he followed Dumas out of the room. Tom took one less look at us and then left; presumably he would be returning with our food later.

CJ sank down on one of the beds. I stared at her; I had been very surprised to see her act the way she had around Le Roy; I had thought she was different somehow, that she was not someone who would fall for a slick charmer.

"Well?" CJ asked me suddenly,

"Well what?"

"What do you think of Le Roy?"

"I think you two make a very nice couple," I growled, I did not quite know why I was so affected by her behavior, but I was.

"Are you jealous, Erik?" CJ smirked at me,

"No!" I said quickly, and a bit too defensively, "Why would _I_ be jealous of him?"

"I think you are jealous,"

"No I…" I said angrily but she cut me off,

"You don't like him, do you?" She was wearing the familiar wry expression again; I had to admit I was glad to see it back,

"No, I don't"

"Neither do I,"

I stared at her, "It did not seem that way," I moved and leaned against the wall by the window. The afternoon sun was already on its way downward and the late day sun filled the room; illuminating the dust floating in the air.

CJ sighed, "He was a fake, Erik, and I don't trust fake people; if a person is being false, it means they have something to hide,"

"If he is trying to hide his idiocy he should try harder," CJ laughed, "Why do you think he is false?" I asked her suddenly, "I thought he was dim-witted and incompetent, but where do you get fake?"

"Anyone who calls _me_ a 'striking beauty' is trying far too hard to make me like them, and I want to know why,"

"Perhaps he heard about what you did to Tom," CJ laughed, but I stared at her; it seemed strange to me that anyone who was not deformed as I was would think of themselves as anything less than perfect. CJ did not think she was a beautiful woman; I suppose she did not have the luxury for frills and bows; I looked at her arresting green eyes and thought that was a shame.

CJ laughed, "Maybe, but I think it is best if he believed I like him; he will be less guarded, and then I can figure out who he really is,"

Tom reentered the room at that moment. He had food in his hands; nothing less than the usual bread and butter meal. He lay it on the bed CJ was sitting on. He turned to leave, but to my surprise, CJ called out to him,

"Hey! Tom, you are a police man, correct?"

Tom turned around stunned she had spoken in a non threatening manner to him,

"Yes, I was just a normal policeman until Dumas's brilliant idea,"

"I see," CJ reached out and grabbed a piece of bead, "So, do you know Le Roy?"

Tom looked eager to complain about the young captain, "I don't _know_ him," his voice was full of distain, "But everyone knows about him; he has a rich family, but he is the younger son and his father does not want to split up the estate, so his older brother gets to sit on his rich butt and he needs a job. He wanted the police force for some reason so his father bought him the job; kicked out the previous captain. From what I have heard, he is no good,"

"He seems that way," CJ said, biting into the bread,

"I thought he _liked_ you," Tom smiled at CJ and he sat on the end of the bed where CJ was sitting; an act which was far too lax for a guard, however Tom must have sensed he was in no danger; as long as he did not try anything.

"Jealous?" CJ laughed,

"Yes, a bit," Tom responded in a mock serious voice, "I don't want him trying to steal my girl,"

"He might, but I know a way you can win me back," She said smiling, "Could you bring me a pair of scissors?"

Tom stared at her, "Anything for you, darling," he laughed and blew her a kiss, before leaving the room.

I was glowering at him; and CJ noticed it. "Are you jealous of him too?" She laughed,

"I am not jealous of anyone," I said angrily,

"Good, because you know, you are the only man I could ever be attracted to," she was joking, but I still had to fight not to flush too badly.

I moved and sat on the bed across from CJ. I was still processing all the information Dumas had given me, and I was troubled,

"Something about this whole situation is amiss," I said, talking more to myself really,

CJ threw a piece of bread to me which I caught easily, then she spoke, "Well, tomorrow we should get some sort of answer; how well do you know the caves down there?" I looked at her and I could sense a bit of apprehension about her,

"I could walk them with my eyes closed,"

"So we won't end up tumbling down a shaft to our deaths?"

"Not if I can help it,"

"Wonderful,"


	14. Splitting Hairs

Authors comment: Alright, quickly; thanks to everyone who has reviewed! Keep it coming!

On another note, the line in this chapter, "I'm sorry, I can't, don't hate me," is from one of the best shows…Sex and the City! I had to used it, but I don't own the show, or the line, or anything for that matter! Ok, on with story….

Chapt. 14

When Tom returned with the scissors, he handed them quickly to CJ and then backed up and looked awkwardly around the room. I eyed him from the window.

"I just wanted to…apologize to you," he said uncertainly to CJ, and she hardly let him finish before she cut in,

"That is very sweet, but I am still not going to sleep with you,"

"Damn it! Why not?" Tom seemed both amused and angry,

"I'm sorry, I can't, don't hate me," she said in her signature unaffected tone,

"Well, if you ever change your mind, just yell for me,"

"Good day Tom," CJ said with an unmistakable finality, and a slight flash of her bright eyes, and Tom left, throwing his hands up exasperatedly.

"I told you Tom would bring you something if you asked," I said to her matter-of-factly,

"Yes, I had a feeling he would, but I still did not want to ask him,"

"What changed your mind?"

"I suppose we are going to be here for some time, and if we ever want anything other than bread, butter and water, this seems to be the only way to get it,"

I nodded and pushed my back off the wall behind me and came over to stand next to her, "So what exactly are the scissors for?"

"I need to cut my hair,"

I shook my head, "How menacing, no wonder you are an assassin," it seemed that even though she was a mercenary, she could not fight off that urge to maintain some sort of vanity

I watched as she raised the scissors to her hair, "How are you going to see to cut the back?"

"I just pull it over my shoulder and cut,"

"Won't it be uneven?"

"Maybe, but its too long, I have to do something; if I had not been in prison, I would have not let it get this long, it gets in the way,"

I stared at her; so maybe her reasons held more practicality than pure vanity. She raised her hand to a front lock of hair, however as she raised her arm, I saw her wince with pain and then drop her arm to her lap again,

"Shoulder still sore?" I asked her with a sigh; it was a shame she had been hurt and it was worse to be reminded of it,

"Yes," She muttered, prying the bandage away from the wound to peek at her shoulder,

"Here," I held out my hand, "Give me those scissors,"

She looked at me with a questioning smile, "Are _you_ going to cut my hair?"

"Just give me the scissors,"

"What if I don't trust you?" She smiled,

"I think I can cut in a straight line," I said, taking the scissors from her,

"If you make me look stupid…" she began,

"Don't worry; you will look lovely for Monsieur Le Roy tomorrow,"

She shook her head, "I hate you sometimes," She said, thought I knew she was not being serious,

I took her pile of blond hair and let it all fall on her back. I shook my head; this was a very bazaar thing to be doing, but everything I had done since I had met this girl had been bazaar; so what was the point in stopping myself now?

Her hair had not been brushed in some time, and the tangles were going to make it difficult to cut. I set down the scissors and began to untangle her hair with my hands. It was not a gentle process, and CJ frequently flinched,

"That hurts!" she squealed as I yanked at her hair,

"Beauty is pain," I said in an amused voice; she could climb through windows, fight off attackers, but her hair still caused her discomfort,

"_You_ are a pain," she muttered,

Her hair was a mess; a tangled, blond rat's nest, however it was a bit entertaining to watch her flinch every time I undid a snarl. In the end, it became apparent that I would not ever work out all of the knots in her thick blond hair; but it was possible to work most of the tangles down to the bottom of her hair where I could cut it off.

I picked up the scissors, "Now, don't do anything…weird," CJ said nervously; she really did not trust me with her hair,

"You want me to cut it just below your ears, correct?" I teasingly, opening the scissors and placing them close to her head,

"Erik!" She said in her most warning voice,

"What?"

"You know what,"

"Don't try to be humorous?"

"Exactly,"

I moved to actually cut her hair; she sat up straight on the end of the bed. It was a bit silly really, she was situated on the end of the bed with her back toward me; the reasoning being that this way her hair would not fall on the bed. Of course; the beds were already quite repulsive; so a bit of hair on them would make no difference really.

The scissors were a bit dull; but other than that there was no problem. I had worked on many artistic projects in the past; I had built things, painted things, engineered things; so cutting in a straight line was not a great challenge.

It was very strange for me to be cutting her hair. In the past, I had had very little contact with other people; especially with other women. It was true I had touched Christine; I had even kissed Christine, but I had been sure she would be the only woman ever to let me get that close. CJ had taken me by surprise.

After all of the knotted ends had been removed, her hair hung just below her shoulders; a considerably shorter style than what most woman of the time wore.

"How does it look?" CJ asked as she ran her hand through her blond locks,

"Your hair looks fine, but," I stared down at the pile of hair on the floor, "it looks like I killed a small sheep in here,"

CJ turned and looked down, laughing as she saw the pile. She got up from the bed and stretched her long legs, then she looked up at me; "Thanks for helping,"

"Not at all," I said; I still found it awkward when she thanked me. I lay back down on my bed. It was now growing dark outside and in the distance I could hear the faint rumble of thunder.

CJ lit a candle with the flints Dumas had given us our first night in the upstairs room. She sank down on her bed. She was looking at her shoulder and peeling away the bandage.

Sitting up I grabbed the candle and moved it closer to throw a better light on her. The wound was circled by a blue purple bruise from the pressure of the bullet entering her shoulder. Thankfully it did not look infected.

"Where can you move your arm without hurting your shoulder?" I asked her,

"It only hurts when I raise it up like this," she made to move her arm above her head, but I quickly grabbed her wrist,

"Don't actually _do_ it, if it hurts, I just wanted you to _tell_ me," I muttered sharply, then I realized I was still holding on to her wrist. I let go quickly.

CJ shrugged and lay down, "I will be fine," she said as she closed her eyes. I blew the candle out and lay down as well. I listened as another thunder clap rolled out in the distance.

"Storm tonight," CJ said with a yawn.

"Maybe, but it could hold off until tomorrow morning,"

"I suppose…" CJ's voice trailed off; it seemed she was already falling asleep.

I had far too much on my mind to fall asleep quickly. Tomorrow I would be returning to my old haunt; no pun intended. The house by the lake held quite a few bad memories. There was the Christine fiasco; then there was the added pain of reminding me of how I used to live.

Most of my life had been spent in as much solitude as I could possible achieve. I had wanted it that way; if no one was around me than no one could reject me. A lifetime with out acceptance had pushed me beyond bitter and into self loathing and despair. After leaving Persia, I had been so disgusted with myself; I had punished myself by filling my surroundings with things which reminded me of my mother; from her furniture to the baby doll I had tried to trick her into believing was me.

In the deep, all consuming glum beneath the opera I had truly begun to lose my mind. I had rigged barrels of gun powder to explode, destroying the opera, if Christine refused to stay with me. I had almost let the daroga die in the torture chamber, I had almost killed myself.

Now I felt a something I had not my whole life; I wanted to live. It was not the lusty, passionate love of life some young men felt, but there was a desire. I wanted to be with Christine. I wanted to change for her; to show her I was not a monster she should be afraid of, or a pitiful being she should pity. I wanted her to love me as much as I had loved her. I blinked, the way I _had_ loved her? The way I did love her.

I sat still for a moment in the dark. The storm did not seem as though it was going to patiently wait until morning to burst; a sudden flash of lightening illuminated the room.

The light did not disturb CJ; she lay quietly on her side with her face toward me. I stared at her; I owed her a great deal. She was the first person who I had ever identified with. When I told her of my past; she did not pity me, nor was she terrified or disgusted. CJ understood me.

I, on the other hand, did not understand her at all. Why, when everyone else had always treated me as something to be feared, or shunned, or hated, why did she treat me as though I was any other man? I had threatened her angrily the first time I had met her; yet she had barely blinked an eye. She had helped me; she had treated me like a human being.

Another flash of lightning made temporary day in the room. I was still staring at CJ. Suddenly I thought back to Le Roy and how irritated it had made me when he had kissed her hand. I hated to admit it; but I had been jealous. Men like him could meet a beautiful woman like CJ and unabashedly take her hand and kiss it; and instead of being offended by his slick comments or put off by his lack of wit, she would blush and laugh because he was handsome. That was why I was jealous; beautiful people could be wicked, stupid, and vile, but they would still be loved.

I had to admit however that that was not the only reason I had been jealous. A part of me was drawn to CJ, in a way which frightened me, and I did not want any other man charming her.

Pushing all thoughts away, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.


	15. What Dreams May Come

The trouble with the subconscious is that no matter what you try to tell it to do; it obeys its own commands.

I did not want to think about anything terrible, I wanted a pleasant sleep. However, some other part of my mind was free from my control and I blame it for my dream.

Everything was in black and white; I never had dreams in color. There was no plot in my dream really, no continuing story, just flashes of every bad memory I have ever had. However, it made sense to me.

In a flash I was in the cellar being beaten; I was not in my own body I was watching myself being hit as a small boy. I tried to stop my mother's flying hand, but of course I could not.

There was another bright flash and a loud crack; and I was running through the woods, tree limbs hitting me in the face at I ran away from my home and toward the light. I was myself this time; and I could see the approaching fire light ahead of me, and even though I knew what terrors lay before me once I reached the clearing I could not stop myself. The feeling in my stomach was what I believe one would have felt had they been hurtling toward a cliff edge in a runaway carriage.

I broke through the clearing and saw the dirty gypsy turn to face me, large black eyes glittering menacingly and I watched a wicked smile spread across his face. The man extended a bony, gnarled hand and beckoned to me. I could not stop myself from taking that first step toward him.

There was another bright flash and then a roar and I was in Persia. The gypsy lay dead and bleeding on the floor behind me.

Another flash and I was older, watching men being executed in my torture device; and that was when they brought _her_ in. She was nobody; not a criminal, not a traitor, just a girl who had been around the shah at the wrong time.

I was beating my fists against the observation window where the shah and the rest of the court of Persia would watch the execution process. I could hear wicked laughter behind me, and I watched horrified as the poor girl slowly went mad. I beat my fists against the window with increased force.

The laughter of the shah and the court turned to a roar, and then I heard them start to call my name,

"Erik!"

I bolted up in bed and nearly knocked CJ to the ground. I blinked; the room was lit by the small fire of one candle, CJ was sitting on my bed, and my face was only inches from hers. She stared at me,

"You were having a fit," She said in a matter of fact tone I appreciated. I was not proud to be caught as a grown man having nightmares, and I did not want to make a big production out of it.

"I…did I wake you?" I did not know what to say,

"Yes, but chances were that the storm would have woken me up anyway,"

I nodded as another thunder clap shook the room and I realized; the loud roars and cracks from my dreams had been the thunder.

"Was I…Did I say something?" I wondered if I had been yelling in my sleep,

"Yes, several things; you wanted something to stop,"

That could have been anything; I wanted the beating to stop, I wanted to stop running, to stop the execution,

"How long was I yelling?"

"For awhile, that was why I tried to wake you up,"

"I…I am sorry," I brought one leg up and rested my elbow on it, then I rested my head in my hand.

"It's alright," CJ said in an even voice, "It is when terrible things don't upset you that you need to be worried,"

I looked up at her. She was gazing away; watching the lightning outside through the window. In the candle light her eyes shone in an even brighter shade of green than usual. She had not moved from the side of my bed, and I honestly did not want her to; I was used to waking from these dreams alone and miserable. For once someone was there; I did not want coddling, but it was reassuring just to have someone there.

"You were wrong about the storm," CJ said to me with a smile, "It did not wait until morning to break,"

"Apparently not," I said, turning to look out the blackened window. As I watched the sky outside lit with a flash and I could see clearly the torrent of rain crashing down.

"Will we still be able to get into the opera tomorrow?" CJ asked, turning her eyes to stare into mine,

For one half dazed moment I simply stared back at her; watching the candle light play in her eyes; I was not sure if I was so intrigued because it was a beautiful sight or because it was slightly hypnotic to watch the fire flicker slowly in the round orbs, or perhaps I was just tired.

I shook my head and re focused, "No, we will still be able to go in; I know quite a few ways to get down there, as I told Le Roy, I don't know why he made us wait to go down," The absurdness of his decision hit me again and I snorted; I guess he was just that stupid.

CJ nodded. She went back to her bed and lay down. I had known she would do that eventually, but I was still sorry when she did. "I guess we should try to get some sleep," she said,

"Yes," I nodded and blew out the candle. I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling. I stared at it for some time, listening to the storm outside

"Erik?" CJ whispered from her bed and I was surprised; I had thought she had fallen asleep again,

"Yes? Why are you whispering?"

"I thought you might have been asleep…"

"I am not asleep,"

"Do you want to tell me what the dream was about?" Her voice was even and calm, making me feel as though having horrid nightmares was not such a strange thing, or a thing to be worried about,

"Does it matter?" I sighed,

"I don't know, but until you tell me, I am just going to assume you dreamt that you were trapped in a room with Le Roy and he kept talking to you about men's fashion and you wanted him to stop,"

I actually laughed, and not even a maniacal, evil laugh, an honest laugh. "That would be terrifying,"

"I think I am going to have nightmares now," CJ said lightly, "Just imagining you two in a room talking about cravats is enough to keep anyone awake at night,"

"I will never sleep soundly again," I said sarcastically, but it was true and I knew it, and I believe CJ knew it to.

There was a pause, then, "If you ever want to tell me, you can,"

"Maybe another time," I sighed, I did not want to explain at the moment, I just wanted to sleep.

I did not have any other dreams that night; or at least any which I remembered the next morning. I woke to find the room was stiflingly hot; rolling off the bed I went to the window and shoved it open. It took a great deal of force to push the window pain upward; it appeared to have been painted shut.

However the window did open; letting in what Parisians called fresh air and what any rural dweller would have called toxic fumes. Though there had been improvements in the area of city hygiene, these improvements did not occur in this dilapidated section of Paris. Here, sewage rotted in the streets, rats scuttled openly through houses, and horse droppings baked in the roads. All this drifted through the window along with the small breeze.

The sky was still dark and threatening; on the horizon I could see flashes of lightning. It was going to be a great day, I thought bitterly.

Turning I saw CJ sit up and rub her eyes, "It is blistering in here," She said impotently,

"I opened a window," I pointed to our pathetically small open window,

"So now the room will be hot and smell disgusting,"

"Lucky us,"

Dumas came just as I was wondering about food. To my disappointment, but not really to my shock, he did not offer breakfast, rather the order to accompany him to the opera.

"Come on," He said gruffly, "Le Roy is meeting us there," He did not hide the distain he felt for his fellow captain.

We walked listlessly behind Dumas as he led us out of the building and toward the usual cab. Tom was standing by the doorway and followed us to the cab. He sat beside the driver and the cab pulled away. We sat in silence as it jostled down the road toward the opera.

The cab passed countless crooked roads shooting outward, each one jammed with buildings in varying states of disrepair. Most poor sections of Paris looked this way; unorganized and cramped. It was a result of the city growing too big too fast without anyone actually planning where the houses should go; or how they should be built. The result was staring me in the face; rundown houses which deserved to be condemned.

I was staring straight ahead of me; trying to block out the feeling of dread brought on by the prospect of returning to my old home. I was also trying to block out the foul stench of the Paris streets; the garbage, the dirty water, and the distinct smell of smoke.

"What in hell…" CJ suddenly muttered beside me; I turned to see she was staring out the small window of the cab; from where I was seated beside her I could not see what she was looking at.

As the cab rounded a corner I could hear people shouting, our driver and Tom included. The cab slowed to a halt and CJ threw open the door; and I saw clearly what was causing the commotion.

One of the decrepit tenement houses had had enough of being filled to the brim with families and receiving no tending; and in protest it had caught on fire.

It was a ghastly sight; the lower floors of the building were wrapped in red orange flames which were hungrily consuming the aged wood of the doomed house. The flames were jumping quickly to the neighboring buildings. Above, smoke spiraled into the cloud darkened sky looking like ghostly fingers reaching for heaven.

We watched transfixed for a moment as the front doorway of the house collapsed; the post and lintel crumpling and disappearing into a mess of flames.

Around us, there was gathering a great circle of people from neighboring houses; some were shouting for the firemen, which was quite a waste considering the firemen where ineffectual fellows carrying buckets of water. Some were calling out names; presumably of those still inside the burning building. Those who resided in the neighboring houses began streaming out onto the street before it was to late.

When someone called for the police Dumas snapped out of his daze.

"I am a policeman, Captain Dumas," he said hurriedly to the man who had called for someone to get the authorities, "Are there people still up there?" He pointed toward the crumbling house,

"Yes Monsieur," the man replied, "It all started so fast, hardly a chance to get out,"

Dumas turned to CJ and I, "You heard the man, get in there," He pointed a thumb at the tenement building,

"You can't be serious!" I narrowed my eyes at him, "We will burn to death!" CJ was looking apprehensively at the house,

"Not my problem, remember; this is what I hired you for," Dumas said gruffly

"You did not hire us, you forced us into service, and there was nothing in the job description about…"

"The only job description I gave you was that there were things we did not want to do, and you were going to do them!" Dumas cut in, "Now get up there, there is still a chance of getting some people out,"

"How? The whole bottom half of the house is firewood!" I yelled angrily

"You two are clever, figure something out, hopefully more help will arrive soon,"

I turned to look at the building; the flames were climbing higher. I eyed the house next to it; the flames were already crawling up it's side; latching on to it like some kind of wicked weed bent on choking the life out of everything it could reach. Above us a rumble of thunder cracked ominously.

"Come on," I said to CJ, "We don't have much time,"


	16. Fire in the hole!

I bound up to the neighboring house with CJ at my heals; I could feel the heat from the flames and hear the awful crackling sound as the fire ate away at the tenement house.

We rushed in through the front door; my plan was simple, I was going to take advantage of the fact that the two tenement houses were so close together.

I took the flight of stairs leading upward two at a time. If we did not hurry than we would be trapped in this building by the spreading fire. We reached the top floor of the tenement building and I opened the door of a room on the side of the house which was facing the rapidly burning tenement building.

The room was small and dark; however to my relief there was a window which looked out toward the tenement building we were trying to enter. CJ and I darted to the window. It held no glass; there was just a scrap of cloth covering it. I tore the cloth away and looked out.

Facing us was a window through which we could see smoke pouring out. The window was not directly aligned with the one we were looking out, but we could still climb into it.

"Alright," I turned to CJ, ready to explain my plan; looking at her face I saw an unfamiliar emotion; she looked frightened. However when she spoke, her voice was even;

"We are going to climb out this window and into that one, that's the plan?" She said, I suppose my idea was a bit obvious by this point,

I nodded, "I will go first," As I moved to the window I stopped; I took off my mask and placed it in the floor to the side of the window; it hindered my breathing and I could not afford that in the smoke filled rooms. I climbed difficultly through the small window and balanced with half my body outside and half inside. I placed one foot on the edge of the other window, then one hand, then I shifted my weight as quickly as I could and tumbled into the other room.

The moment I entered the room and hit the floor I felt as though I had fallen into a different world; my usually perfect sight was immediately obscured by the clouds of black smoke and the temperature rose considerably; sweat beaded on my forehead the moment I hit the floor.

Something hit me in the back before I had time to move and I knew CJ was in the room. I looked around; it was impossible to see anything clearly through the thick smoke, but I guessed there was a doorframe somewhere to my right,

"Hello!" CJ yelled into the smoke, she moved and held out a hand, with the other she grabbed my shoulder, "Come on, find the wall," she said to me,

My hand hit the wall; it felt hot, the fire was close. We moved, dragging out hands against the wall for direction. Suddenly the wall disappeared; we had found the doorway.

Looking out I could see a stair going downward and a door across from me.

"It there anyone who can hear me?" CJ yelled again, and I strained my ears for the sounds of a response.

There was nothing at first save for the growing crackle of the fire which was raging below us. Then I did hear a sound rising over the smoke and flames, it sounded like crying.

Her fear was apparently gone; because CJ dashed past me and opened the door facing us. The crying grew louder. I followed CJ into the room and out of the shadows emerged two small forms, two children coming toward us,

"Mother?" One squeaked, the other was still crying,

"No, but I am going to take you to her, alright?" CJ swiftly scooped the young boy into her arms, "Where is she? Is she in this room?"

The boy just shook his head. CJ quickly turned and headed back for the window escape; leaving me to pick up the boy's crying sister. I was thankful for the dense smoke; it prevented her from seeing my face clearly.

At the window, CJ set down the boy and moved agilely into the other tenement building, then she turned around. With out losing a minute I picked up the boy beneath his arms and handed him to CJ. I did the same to his sister. Across the way I could hear her telling the boy to take his sister straight downstairs and outside. I fervently hoped the downstairs was still accessible.

CJ climbed back over to me; we had an easier time finding the doorway after having found it before,

There were no more rooms on the floor we were on, so we headed down the stairs, I kept a hand on CJ's shoulder so as not to lose her in the dark smoke which was wrapping around us like the closing fingers of some evil hand.

As we moved downward, we could hear screaming; someone trapped in a room. The place from which the sound was emitting emerged out of the curling smoke. Now an eerie glow was illuminating the fumes around us; the fire was burning close to us now; it would not be possible to move much lower in the building.

The door we were faced with was no longer a door really; it had crumbled much as the front doorway had, and now the collapsed door and large portions of the ceiling lay between CJ and I and the people inside the room.

Frantically, CJ began picking up pieces of the wreckage and hurling them out of the way, truly I wanted to leave, but if CJ could stand being in here than so could I. I helped her clear the doorway as quickly as I could; however it was not coming along very speedily.

"This is impossible CJ!" I yelled to her; I was dripping with sweat and my back was hot with the approaching flames,

"Someone is in there; they are not going to burn to death!" she yelled back angrily, furiously throwing aside a large piece of wood blocking the door. A small hole had appeared and someone called to us,

"Help! Can you hear me? Help!" the voice sounded terrified,

"We are going to get you out of here!" CJ yelled back, "But you have to help us too! Help us un block the door!"

From the other side I heard something move; whoever was inside sounded as though they had started to shift the rubble.

The house suddenly emitted a loud groan; it was failing under the heat of the fire.

"We have to get out of here soon," I muttered wiping sweat off of my face and believing that even soon was not soon enough,

Together, CJ and I lifted one massive piece of ceiling and the hole became larger; large enough for a person to fit through. No sooner did this hole appear than someone wriggled through.

It was a young girl, no more than ten, and she turned quickly as a pair of hands passed a small baby through the hole. A moment later a woman scrambled out of the room.

"Follow me!" I had to yell to make myself heard; it seemed the noise of the fire was growing louder and louder and the denseness of the smoke absorbed any other sound.

I led the family up the stairs and into the window room, I instructed them to climb out and head downstairs. The three completed the act with admirable calm considering the circumstances. I was about to climb out myself when I realized I was missing someone.

"CJ!" I yelled irritated as I ran back to the stairs, I could not see her through the smoke, "CJ!" I called again, then I descended to the second level, and I saw her. She was silhouetted against the fire and smoke, gazing down the stairs,

"CJ!" I grabbed her shoulder and spun her to face me, "What the hell are you doing? We have to leave!" I tugged her in the direction of the exit,

"There are still people down there, I can hear them!" she protested, and her voice was a bit hysterical,

"But we can't get to them! We have to go or we are going to die in here!" I pulled her up the stairs just as the house shook beneath us. It would not last much longer. I sprinted up the stairs; ignoring the pain in my legs and the burning in me lungs; dragging CJ along with me. The tenement house was beginning to tremble beneath our feet, making me feel as though the whole world was shaking.

Panting, we reached the window. I shoved CJ to the ledge, forcing her to climb out before me. I did not want her running back to try to help someone else; it was a lost cause. I exited as quickly as I could after CJ, jumping into the other room to find CJ waiting for me,

"What are you doing?" I yelled, "Go!" She nodded, but she also handed me something,

"Don't forget," She said as she turned to the stairs; she had picked up my mask, which I carried as I ran down the stairs. I knew the moment of truth was near, when we would see if the front door was accessible.

As we went, I was sure that the fire would be blocking our way. I did not see how the flames, which had already been licking at the side of the house when we had entered, would not have spread to this building.

However, as we approached the bottom, I could hear voices close to the door, and as the front entrance came into view I saw that the firemen, aptly called the 'bucket brigade,' had been throwing water on the front of the house to keep the entrance open.

We sprinted out of the house; my head was spinning. Neither of us stopped until we had reached the edge of the throng of people watching the fire. I did not notice if they gave us a strange look. I was taking great breaths of air; the very air which I had earlier deemed noxious I now gulped gratefully. It was wonderful compared with the close, smoky air of the fire.

I looked over at CJ, she was panting, soaked with sweat and covered in soot. I thought I must have looked similar to her. She turned her head to face me, green eyes shining out from her soot blackened face,

"Alright?" She asked me between breaths,

I nodded, besides being covered in soot and sweat, having a stinging pain in my legs from running so fast up and down stairs without breathing proper air, and a soreness in my arms from un blocking the door way, I was fine. "You?" I asked her, and she nodded back at me,

At that moment there was a great commotion; the firemen backed off from the tenement house, which was now swaying dangerously. The great crowed that had gathered around took several steps backward. The house emitted one last loud groan, the final cry of a dying beast. The walls finally gave way, and the top floors of the building sank down as the bottom floors collapsed upon themselves.


	17. Underground

Authors note:

Alright, I just wanted to say, if anyone was wondering what the deal was with the fire, and were thinking, 'what the hell is going on?' I am going somewhere with this! I promise! Please keep reading and reviewing!

Chapt. 17

There was a great cry from the crowd. I looked around at them and really let them register for the first time. It seemed as though the entire neighborhood had come out to watch the slow death of the building.

Out of all these gathered people I only recognized eight of them; Tom had been standing in front of the other tenement building, however now he was walking toward us. Beyond him I could see Dumas. More police men must have come with the firefighters, because standing next to Dumas was none other than that foppish Le Roy. It appeared he and Dumas were deep in conversation.

The five people we had rescued from the fire stood huddled together, a fireman was talking to them, and they had all been wrapped in blankets. The two children were very young and blond; the older boy was clinging tightly to the younger girl's hand.

The mother from the other room was cradling her crying baby, trying to comfort it. Her young daughter stood with her arms wrapped around her mother and her face buried in her skirts.

"Dumas wants to talk to you two," Tom had reached us and now beckoned for us to follow him, he spoke quickly, but his tone was not callous

We made to follow him. Now that air had returned to my lungs and the likelihood of burning to death had lowered considerably, I was acutely aware that most of the eyes of the crowd were fixed upon CJ and I. Walking over to Dumas I saw the heads turn to follow our movements. I slipped my mask back on.

We reached Dumas and he opened his mouth to speak, however he checked his voice; there was a commotion in the crowd. They had been still, a motionless field mesmerized by the fire, but now it looked as though a storm had blown down one section of the field. The spectators swayed to make way for this wind in the form of a distraught woman.

"Oh God have mercy, let me through!" She was yelling franticly, and CJ turned to watch. I stopped and looked as well.

"Oh God!" She cried as she saw the tenement house; the fire had been prevented from spreading too badly, but it had been too late for the original victim. The whole building was now wrapped in flames. She fell to her knees and buried her face in her hands. By the way she was shaking, she was sobbing wildly.

"Mother!" The little blond boy now broke away from his fellow fire survivors and began a stumbling run toward the crying woman, his sister close behind.

The woman looked up and turned toward her approaching children. She spread her arms to embrace them. Despite the innumerate amount of words scholars and philosophers have developed in order to perfectly describe human feeling, they seemed to have failed to find a word which perfectly expressed this woman's emotions when she saw her children, for she said not a word, rather she uttered a poignant cry.

Her children reached her and were quickly enveloped in her embrace. She kissed the tops of both of their heads as the crowd gathered round her, congratulating her and embracing her and the children she had just been reunited with.

"Nice work," Dumas's voice pulled me out of the trance I had fallen into as I watched the mother with her children. I turned to face him. He was still gazing into the blaze of fire,

"Oh yes! Very well done!" Le Roy added far too animatedly, "I would have not thought it possible for anyone to escape that fire," I narrowed my eyes at him, he could have said anything and I would still have hated him. Le Roy opened him mouth to say more, however Dumas beat him to it,

"Are either of you hurt?" He asked, sounding almost more impatient than worried,

"No," we both said in unison,

"Good, because you are still going to the opera today,"

"Oh now Eugene!" Le Roy implored, "They have done enough for one day!"

"Unlike the rest of this confounded investigation, when they have done enough _is_ up to me to decide!" Dumas burst angrily, "And if you had any sense of how to do your job you would realize how important it is we catch this killer before he takes someone else!"

Le Roy made a face which resembled a child who had be scolded by an adult, and his response was just as juvenile, "Do you know who I am? My father is the one who donates the money that make it possible for you to have a job! Don't forget that; and I can have Fillips on your back in a minuet! Then we will see how you like being homeless and jobless!"

"Call him!" Dumas turned and angrily yelled at Le Roy, "Get Fillips down here and tell him you want me fired! I don't care, but if one more girl dies it's on _your_ head!"

At this moment I felt a tap on my shoulder and I whipped around. The woman who had earlier been reunited with her children was now staring at me and at CJ, who had turned away from the two warring captains as well. The woman had her daughter in her arms and her son clinging to her side,

"The…the people in the crowd, they said you two ran into the building and got my children out," I blinked, not knowing what to say,

"I do not want you to think I meant any harm to come to them," The woman continued, tears in her eyes, "I have to leave them alone because I work all day, but I never meant for…" She choked,

"Nobody blames you," CJ said quickly, "There was no way you could have known, the fire was not your fault,"

The woman shook her head, "I should have _been_ there, if it hadn't been for you two," and without another word she embraced first CJ and then myself. As she wrapped her arm not holding her child around me; I stiffened and held my breath, slowly I wrapped my arm around her, hardly touching her before I let go.

She stepped back from my, "Thank you, thank you so much," Her daughter was pulling at her hair and her son at her skirts. The children both looked bewildered, and their mother's eyes were still bright with tears.

We stood in an awkward silence until Dumas put his hand on my shoulder,

"We have to go," He said quietly, and with one last nod at the grateful mother, CJ and I turned and followed him back to the cab. Dumas parted the throng of people blocking the way to the cab; most eyes were on CJ and me. Unexpectedly, someone in the crowd began to clap as we passed by. The gesture spread through the mass of people much as the fire had spread through the decrepit tenement building.

I turned to CJ; she shook her head and shrugged. I felt embarrassed knowing everyone was looking at me and that they could plainly see the odd mask on my face. However, there was an odd feeling which came with knowing I had just prevented the fire from claiming several more victims.

There was also a pleasure in hearing the sound of people clapping, and of several loud cheers, for something I had done. At the opera, I had always listened to the thunderous applause at the end of each act, and I wished I could have had them applauding for my music.

At the time I had thought it was not possible, that no one would ever congratulate me on anything I had done. I had had nightmares of sharing my most prized music with the audiences of Paris, and then at the end the audience would silently stand and leave.

True, this was not what I had in mind, but it was something. Just as we stepped up into the cab, one single villainous thought stole my happiness away. These people thought I was someone honorable, another policeman of firefighter. However, I was a fraud; I was a convicted murderer and assassin. They should not have shown gratitude or appreciation to someone like me.

We all sat down; Le Roy, who was riding with us, sat next to Dumas, despite an effort to sit next to CJ; I had ruined that plan. I looked out the small window and stared at the burning tenement building.

The flames were subsiding slowly, revealing the blackened skeleton of the once home. Over head, the sky, which had been threatening for some time, loosed a mammoth boom of thunder, and then unleashed a torrent of rain. The crashing droplets smashed against the remaining flames, finally beating down the beast.

I leaned back, trying not to wonder how all those displaced by the fire would shelter themselves from the rain. I felt very tired; I would have liked nothing more than to have dropped down and slept. The prospect I was now facing; of searching for hours in the deep caverns of the opera house, did not appeal to me at all.

CJ looked exhausted as well. I saw her raise a hand to her injured shoulder,

"Does it hurt?" I asked her,

She nodded but said nothing. Outside the remaining rundown tenement buildings passed by, slowly changing into more respectable shops and houses. It seemed forever before we were turning down a familiar street and the large silhouette of the opera house appeared.

The moment it came into view my body tensed again. I had thought I was too exhausted to be overly nervous about going back, however at the sight of the building I knew I was wrong.

My empty stomach began twisting in knots, my palms were sweating and I shifted in my seat. The cab stopped beside the road entrance to the labyrinth of tunnels which would eventually lead to my former home.

"Alright you two," Dumas looked sternly at us, "You know what you are looking for, any sign of the killer or the missing girls. If you find the man down there, try to bring him up alive, but if you cannot, by all means, kill him,"

We both nodded and hopped out of the cab and into the pouring rain. Dumas and Le Roy would wait on the surface level; it was a good situation for them. Dumas knew that we would come back; he was holding too much over our heads for us to try to run. It also spared him the danger of having to travel into the killer's lair.

I walked up to the grated entrance of to the opera. CJ stared at me as I unlatched the door and let it swing wide.

"It looks dark in there," CJ said, peering into the blackened gloom of the tunnel,

"It _is_ dark in there," I rejoined, "No need to be nervous though, I can see where I am going," I did not add that although I could see in the dark, there were numerous places from which someone else could spy, and if the killer was there, we would be dead before we saw anything.

I stepped into the tunnel, CJ close behind. It was the antithesis of the burning tenement building; it was cool and dark, and instead of the threatening crackle of fire, we heard the eerie drip-drop of water as it seeped through the stone walls of the tunnel; Instead of smoke, a ghostly mist floated out to us from the lake far below.

We had not gone far before we were in complete darkness.

"Erik?" I stopped moving forward and turned around. CJ walked into me and I stumbled back a bit, "Sorry," she said,

"What is it?" I asked her gruffly,

"I can't tell where I am going,"

"Here," I reached out and took her hand, "Just follow me,"

I had a strangely familiar feeling as I walked down the tunnel; remembering a time when I had led Christine down to the very place we were headed now. I hoped the ramifications of bringing another woman down to my home would not be quite so disastrous.

Not too much further, I stumbled a bit on something on the floor. I stopped immediately, causing CJ to walk into my back.

"Sorry," she muttered, but I was not really paying attention. I looked down at the ground and I saw that it was covered with debris, and I assumed this was where the cave- in had taken place. It was strange that such a thing should have occurred, I thought as I instructed CJ to step over the wreckage, all the years I had spent under the opera there had never been a cave-in.

Not far from the scene of the cave-in the tunnel started to slope downward, and CJ slipped on the smooth floor and fell to the ground. Of course, I had her hand in mine and I tried to keep her from falling, unfortunately it turned out I was holding her hurt arm, and as she fell I pulled it upward, making it worse.

"Damn it!" CJ yelled, and I quickly let go of her hand and I saw her in the dark, rubbing her shoulder. I shuttered as her voice echoed back at me from the walls of the tunnel; our presence was most likely no longer a secret.

"Sorry," I murmured, and I heard her sigh and wave her hand,

"Was not your fault," CJ whispered, realizing the damage a loud voice could do, "Alright, where are you? I can't see a thing,"

I thanked the years of living in darkness having given me sight in the gray-black gloom of the caves, and I stooped in front of her, placing my hands lightly on either side of her shoulders and guiding her to her feet. I took her other hand and led on.

It did not take much longer after this point to reach the place where I believe the police went amiss. The tunnel continued on for some time before it circled around and came to a dead end. I suspected the police had missed the door that they had been told to find. This was because the door was a bit more complicated than one would think.

I told CJ to stand still while I opened the door. It worked in this way; the door was on one side of the tunnel, while the trigger which released it was on the other. In order to open the door, there were two points on the opposite wall which needed to be pressed simultaneously. Unless you knew exactly where they were, it was almost impossible to do. The points were so small, even though they had been described to the police, it would have been very difficult to find them.

Having done this countless times, I did not have a problem finding what I was looking for. My right hand found the small smooth stone spot located at about my eye level. My left found the oblong rock lower down on the wall, and I pushed.

I turned around. To anyone who did not know better, it would have looked as though I had done nothing. To add to the difficulty of finding and opening the door; when the correct points were pushed, the door did not actually open, it simply became _able_ to open. If by some miracle someone found the correct spots and pushed, they would then need to find the door and push it open as well.

I walked passed CJ, brushing her arm and causing her to jump,

"Jumpy?"

"You would be to if you couldn't see,"

"Time to go," I said to her and I grabber her by the hand. I led her over to the wall. Finding the door, I thrust it open. A cool wind hit our faces as the door swung inwards, and I felt CJ squeeze my hand,

"Yes?" I asked her,

"What?"

"You squeezed my hand,"

"I didn't mean to,"

"Hand spasm?" I asked skeptically; my guess was that she was nervous,

"You could say that," she responded, she was definitely a bit nervous,

I walked through the door, CJ close behind me.

"Wait a moment," I said once we were on the other side. I turned back and swung the door shut, once it made contact with the wall of the tunnel the locking mechanism reset itself.

This passage led steadily downward; the floor was smooth and the surroundings not terribly treacherous, until just before the opening which would lead out to the lake.

"Is there light ahead? Or have I gone mad?" CJ asked me as we drew closer to our intended destination,

"I have no doubt you have gone mad, but yes there is light ahead," The cavern in which the lake was located was quite large, and light filtered into it from the floors above.

As the light increased, I thought it prudent to let go of CJ's hand. I did so and she came to walk beside me. I was opening my mouth to warn her of what was coming, however she found out herself.

There was a sharp drop off in the tunnel before it reached the lake. Unfortunately it was closer than I had imagined and I watched as CJ picked up her foot only to have it find air before it.

Quickly, I stepped to her and wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her back into me. For one awkward moment while she caught her breath, I held her to me.

"You couldn't have warned my about that?" She whispered to me angrily, disengaging herself and stepping backward,

"You should be careful, the floor drops away right there," I pointed in front of us,

"Thanks a lot," She said sarcastically

I gave a small laugh, "I caught you, what more do you want?"

"To not be allowed to walk off into the abyss," She sounded irritated,

"Don't get angry with _me_, if it was up to you we would both be dead in a fire!" I snapped angrily; I have always had a very short temper, and this day I was so exhausted I had almost no patience.

CJ looked as though she wanted to continue our argument, however she shook her head and looked away, "Where are we going?" she asked, trying to keep emotion out of her voice,

"This tunnel lets out on the edge of an underground lake, beyond the lake there is a house, I used to live there. If anyone has gotten down this far, the house would be a perfect place to hide,"

"The killer and his victims, all in one place," CJ murmured,

"Exactly,"

"So how do we get up to the house without being see by however is inside?"

"I…" I had not really thought about that,

"You have no idea?" CJ sighed,

"Not a clue,"

"So we go to the house, unarmed and ignorant of who is inside and where they might be hiding, and then we catch them and transport them up to the street level and find four missing girls?"

"That's the plan so far," I said darkly, I did not like it either,

CJ looked away for a moment, shaking her head bitterly, then she began to laugh; I could see why, our situation was ridiculous. She lifted her head to face me, and I could see she was smiling wryly,

"I love this plan!" she said in mock enthusiasm, "I am excited to be a part of it! I can't wait to go to this house of yours!"

"Are you finished?"

"Yes,"

"Then lets go,"


	18. Twice Burnt

I led her to the side of the tunnel where I had carved a set of stairs in the rock to make the descent from this passageway less difficult. After going forward several more paces; we were in the cavern with the lake.

It was a most redoubtable sight; my small, oddly built house sitting eerily at the other side of the still sheet of reflecting liquid. Blurry beams of light were streaming down from above, and a creeping mist swirled around the lake and the house.

"Cheery place," CJ muttered,

"It served its purpose," I whispered dismally back, it had served its purpose quite well; it had facilitated my madness and allowed for me to imagine myself married to Christine and living like a normal man. And yet, even when this happily false image had taken hold over my mind, some part of me had always known it would not end well, and one room in the house, my bedroom, reflected that.

In what was my bedroom, there stood a coffin where a bed should have been. I had never felt as though I was a real living person in the world. As such, I had always acted how I felt; as if I was dead already.

I did not want to descend again into that world. I laughed in my head at that thought; I _was_ in that world again. All I had to do was look around; my past was all around me. Like some sort of bazaar dream, I watched the mist across the lake turn into my small boat which was carrying me and Christine…

"Erik," CJ whispered to me, and suddenly the mist was mist once more; I was back in the present, back with CJ,

"Erik," CJ said in a hushed voice, "How do we get across?"

"There should be a boat…" I saw it pulled up on the shore. It seemed as though it was in the same place where I had left it the last night I had left my house, but I could not really be sure.

"How easy is it to see the lake from the house?" CJ whispered to me,

"Very," I said grimly, "but from here there is really no better way to get in; at any entrance there is a chance of being seen," CJ nodded and began to walk toward the boat.

I quickly ran through other options of entrances in my head; ones which led down from the opera above. However there was no way to get up to the opera from where we were. Going through the opera would have made more sense and I wished Dumas had let us enter through there, however it had never been up to Dumas, Le Roy was in charge, and nothing he did made sense.

We reached the boat. I was suddenly struck with a wave of strange remembrance of the last time I had taken a woman in my boat; and I looked over at CJ, when suddenly my mind allowed her blond hair to turn brown along with her green eyes. I was about to reach out my hand to this vision of Christine to help her into the boat when CJ jumped nimbly into the small craft. I shook my head, the vision of Christine gone.

There were two oars; we both took up one and I was about to tell CJ to use her oar to push the boat off the shore and into the lake water when she did just that of her own accord.

"You have been in a boat before?" I whispered to her,

"I lived on the coast before my father died,"

The boat cut through the glassy water without much noise and we rowed as speedily as we could, however I still felt incredibly uneasy; we were plainly visible to anyone in the house. It seemed to take longer to reach the other side of the lake than it had on previous occasions. I attributed this added time to the fact that at any moment, someone could burst out of the house with a gun pointed at my head.

We guided the boat across the water; as we approached the shore I thought for a moment about where the best place to land the boat would be, however it occurred to me only a second later that no matter where we put the boat to shore; we would still be uncomfortably exposed.

The boat bumped into the land and we disembarked as stealthily as we could. I led the way to the house, I made no noise as I went and I hoped that if anyone had gotten down here, they were not inside the house now.

It was a very good possibility that no one had come down here; the police had found the body in the tunnels above, the killer might have only discovered _that_ tunnel, and not the one leading down to my home.

There was the odd point; in my experience with the caverns below the opera, most avoided them. They were ideal for hiding; however I had never experienced anyone trying to use them as I had used them. How anyone would find out about the tunnel that led to my home baffled me.

However, there was no time at that moment to ponder it any further; we had reached the house. We walked the last few feet hunched over in a ridiculous manner so as to avoid the windows, and then we pressed our ears against the wooden wall of the house. I heard nothing. Slowly and cautiously, I crept to the section of the wall behind which my room was located. I listened again; still nothing indicated that anyone was in the room.

I searched for and quickly found a crack in the wall. I pressed my fingers into the crack and it widened. It was one of the secret doors in my home. I slid it sideways an inch and peered in; only empty air stared back at me.

Sliding it fully open I entered. My room was deserted; the only thing in it was my coffin. CJ entered behind me, jumping and grabbing my arm at the sight of the coffin. I shook my head at her;

"There is no one inside it," I whispered, although at that moment I realized that was not necessarily true. A coffin made a good hiding place.

I moved noiselessly to the wall just in front of my coffin and removed a small section of the wall behind which I kept several things of importance to me. There was a Punjab lasso, a bag of money, and a pistol.

Taking the pistol, I turned around and faced the coffin. I stood at one end, the end in which the head would be, and I motioned to CJ to go to the other end. I motioned for her open the coffin. She eyed me skeptically, but she placed her hands on the lid. She looked back up at me; I was pointing my pistol, ready to shoot anyone inside. I nodded to her, and in one quick motion she pulled the lid off the coffin.

I was glad I had not just shot automatically, because all I would have done was made a commotion and shot a hole in my empty coffin.

We both sighed and let the built up tension release. This room was empty. I handed CJ the pistol and returned to grab the lasso. CJ walked to the door frame and I stood beside her. Peering out into the rest of the darkened house, nothing moved or showed any sign of life. No light flickered from under any door, nor did the sound of feet reach our ears.

Slowly, we pulled open every door and searched every room. I had always thought I had a small house; however it seemed as though there were countless doors to check behind and rooms to investigate.

Each time we opened a door my heart raced and I saw a figure hiding in the room; however it never really was a canceled figure; it was always shadows in disguise.

At last, we had exhausted every place in the house and concluded that it was, for the time being, empty.

"I don't know if I should feel relieved or just more nervous," CJ said to me, she did not bother to whisper,

"It does not look like anyone has been down here," I said, "I really don't see how anyone could get to this house," We were standing in the kitchen dinning room area, and I moved to a cabinet, took out a candles and flints and lit them, "No need to be in the dark anymore,"

"Unless someone is watching the house," CJ said nervously,

"In which case we will see them before they reach us," I did not really know if that was true, but I was getting the increasing feeling that the police had been wrong and that who ever was taking the girls from the opera had simply found the one tunnel from the road.

CJ appeared to accept my reasoning. She was looking around the room newly lit by the candle light, "So…this was where you used to live?"

I nodded and began opening drawers and cabinet doors; staring at everything I had thought I would never see again. It was a strange feeling to be back, I almost felt as though I had never really lived there. In the short time I had been living like any other human being I seemed to have gotten used to it. It seemed odd that I had chosen to live like this; but I had, for I remembered every inch of the house and every thing in it.

"Why do you have an empty coffin in that one room?" CJ asked me, just as I found a bottle of wine I had been saving for my 'wedding celebration.' I straightened up and took out two glassed, then turned and sat down at my dinning room table. CJ sat down as well.

"That…" I hesitated momentarily, then I thought to hell with it, she already knew too much about me, why not this as well? "That was my bed room, I used to sleep in a coffin," I poured her a glass of wine and pushed it toward her, she took it gratefully,

"Why the hell did you sleep in a coffin?" She asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion,

"Well…" I poured a glass of wine for myself, "Dead people 'sleep' in coffins, and I never felt like I was a living human being, the only other thing _to_ be is a dead human being, so I thought I should act like one,"

CJ gulped her wine, I could not blame her; we had done quite a bit that day and had no food or drink.

"Why did you feel like a dead person?" CJ asked confused

"My face," I said simply and I downed the wine in my glass,

"Easy there, you have to be sober to get us back out of here," CJ laughed as I finished, then her face became serious again, "So, you have lived like this, in hiding and alone, all your life, just because of your face?

"Yes," I made to pour more wine but CJ quickly grabbed the bottle; I glared at her,

"Promise me that you will never sleep in a coffin again," She said,

"And then I get the wine back?"

"Yes…but you have to really promise,"

"I promise,"

"You promise what?"

I sighed, "I promise I will never sleep in a coffin again," She handed me the bottle,

"So why was there a baby crib with a fake baby in it?"

I had just started pouring my wine, but at this I stopped and put the bottle back down, staring exasperatedly at her; it seemed she was not happy unless she was getting me to reveal painful and shameful facts about my life,

I sighed, her sharp eyes were staring intently at me and I knew she would pry it out of me sooner or later, "All the furniture is from my mothers house, that crib and the baby used to be in my room, and I tried to trick my mother into believing I was the fake baby so she would love me,"

CJ opened her eyes, looking sadly at me. I looked down into my drink,

"You tried to convince your mother you were a wooden baby doll?" CJ asked me with a small laugh, I suppose she could not help herself, it was a bit foolish,

"It sounded less ridiculous when I was five years old," I snorted, and I had to admit it felt good to be met with something other than pity, fear, or loathing, when I talked to other people about myself.

"I am going to venture a guess and say it did not work very well?" CJ asked, finishing her drink,

"No," I said shortly, "No it did not,"

"Why did you keep it than?" She asked bewildered

I opened my mouth to respond but I could not think of anything to say. I had no idea why I kept it, "I don't know," I told her honestly,

"You should get rid of it, you don't need that reminder of your childhood laying around,"

I considered it for a moment, "All right, since you know everything, what should I do with it?"

"I don't know…but you should get rid of it…"

I rolled my eyes, "Alright, now _you_ have to tell _me_ something ridiculous about your past,"

"Something ridiculous?"

"Yes,"

"I once knew a guy who slept in a coffin,"

I shook my head, "Get out of my house,"

"I would if I knew how to get back up to the surface," CJ smiled at me, then she looked around at the dinning room, it appeared by the look on her face that something had just occurred to her. She dragged her hand across the table then looked at it,

"That was interesting," I said after observing her motion, "How much wine did you have?"

"Were you in this room a lot? Did you use this table often?"

"No," I said, surprised at her question,

"Did you clean it a lot?"

"Once in a while," I said, still wondering where she was going with this,

"Then there should be dust on the table,"

I looked down at the gleaming table in front of me, then I turned and stood, returning to the cabinet with the glasses. They were gleaming.

"Strange…" I looked all over my dinning room, it was perfectly clean,

"Maybe someone _was_ down here," CJ said standing and coming over to me,

I raised my eyebrows, "So the killer came down here to clean my house?"

"Alright, so that does not quite make sense…unless someone knew we were coming and wanted to make it look as though they had never been here,"

"How would anyone know we were coming? Not many people even know we are alive, let alone what we are doing,"

"That is true…"

I knew I had made a point, but it was a bit unsettling, "Maybe we should look over the rest of the house,"

We both took a candle and I made my way to my bed room. We looked over everything; it was devoid of any dust or dirt mark…but why would someone clean my house?

All the rooms were the same; clean and neat, almost too neat, I tried desperately to remember exactly where everything had been before I had left it so I could determine if anything had been moved, but it was impossible.

If someone had been down to the house and cleaned it up afterwards, perhaps someone was trying to conceal the fact that they had been in my home, but how would they know I was coming?

My music room was the last room I entered. The organ was never unclean, so there was nothing truly strange about not finding any dust on it. This was the one room I liked; the one room which had given me some kind of joy. I walked over to the organ and ran my fingers along the keys. My beloved opera, _Don Juan Triumphant_, was still on the music stand. I picked it up gently as though it were my child. I looked through the pages; it was all still there. But then…wait…

"Someone was down here," I said defiantly,

"How do you know?" CJ asked, coming to look over my shoulder to see what I was holding, "What is that?"

"This is the opera I wrote…I finished it just before…but the pages are out of order,"

"So?"

"I did not leave it this way; I left it perfectly in order,"

"And you know that for sure?"

"I am positive,"

"Alright, so what to we do?"

I shook my head, "I don't know; I think we should go back to Dumas, nobody is down here now, and if someone knows we were coming down here they will not return anyway while we are still in the caves,"

CJ nodded, "I am falling asleep anyway," I looked at her and she did indeed look tired; actually she looked awful, her face was still blacked with soot, however there were pathways through it where sweat had run down her face. Her clothes were burnt and tattered; then I had an idea.

"Before we leave, there is something we should do," CJ raised her eyebrows,

We stood in my bathroom, washing the soot off our faces. I removed my mask and cleaned the twisted skin beneath it. I noticed that soot from my hands had transferred to the mask so I cleaned it out as well, then I realized CJ was staring at me,

"What?" I demanded, I hated it when people stared at me,

"You missed a spot, here," She reached up with the cloth she had been using on her own face and rubbed my marred cheek,

I blinked and gave her a nod of thanks. I rubbed my face; I needed to shave. All of my things were still in place, so I lathered my face and picked up my blade,

"You can do that with out a mirror?" CJ asked skeptically,

"I am a man of many talents," I said dryly as I put the blade to my skin,

"I cannot watch this," CJ said abruptly, "Give me that blade," I moved the blade out of her reach,

"No, I can _shave_ myself; I have done it for years," I moved the blade farther away from her,

"That was before _I_ came along, now give," she muttered wryly and she took a firm hold on my wrist and pulled my hand to her, forcing me to give up the blade.

I stood awkwardly as she went to work. One of her hands was placed on the back of my head in order to keep her other hand steady, and she was staring, in fact concentrating, on my face. I wanted to squirm away, however there was a blade at my throat and if I made a wrong move there would be a blade inside my larynx.

"Alright, now that was not so bad was it?" CJ rinsed the blade in the sink,

"It was hell," I said, running my hand over my jaw in approval; it was smooth, meaning she had not missed a spot,

"It could not have been worse than when you cut my hair," CJ hit my shoulder, "I thought you were going to rip it all out,"

I laughed wickedly as I remembered, "I maintain that it tried to kill me first,"

After our impromptu washing, I retrieved a new set of clothing for each of us,

"Looks like Noel came early for me," CJ said dryly as I handed her new, clean trousers and a shirt,

"Pardon?" I did not quite follow what she had said,

"You know, Noel, where you get presents…you just gave me these," She held up the clothes I had handed to her. I stared at her blankly, "You never celebrated Noel, did you?"

I shook my head, and CJ nodded, "Right, sorry I mentioned it…" she mumbled, then she cleared her throat, "I am just going to change now," she turned and went into the bathroom. I changed in my bedroom. It felt wonderful to be back in my own, clean clothes and I decided I would bring some back up with me. I would also bring my bag of money up with me.

CJ knocked on my lightly on my door and I opened it. She stood in the hallway and I started as I looked at her. It was very strange to see her dressed in my shirt and pants. They were too big for her and she had rolled the sleeves of the shirt up to her elbows, and she looked…appealing.

She looked back at me, "Erik, in the room I was just in, there is another door we didn't look behind," She did not need to say another word; I knew she was talking about the torture room. I shuttered, I should have taken it apart years ago. It was a replica of the device I had built in Persia; a circular room of mirrors, and in one corner an iron tree. The person being tortured in the room would be made to feel as though they were lost in a dark jungle and eventually they would go mad, and hang themselves from the tree. But nobody would be hiding there, no one would willingly go into that room.

"No one will be in there," I said, not even wanting to think about that room.

"What is in there?" CJ asked curiously,

"Nothing, it is just a closet," I lied

"A closet?" I could tell she did not believe me, "Alright, if you say so," I appreciated her not pushing the subject; most things I was willing to tell her; but this was something I would rather just let die.

We blew out the candles and put them away; I was about to clean up the rest of the mess we had made in the otherwise spotless house when I stopped myself; if someone was using my house without my permission, than they should clean up for me.

Taking a big holding money, clothes, parchment and ink, I exited the house.I was greatly relieved to get back into the boat and head for the opposite shore. I was truly feeling fatigued now, and I just wanted to get back to the cab and sit down in safety.

The boat finally landed on the shore and we disembarked. Wordlessly we walked toward the tunnel which would finally take us out of the caves. When we entered the darkened passageway I immediately took CJ by the hand and led her as I had on the way in. When we reached the drop off where CJ had almost fallen earlier, I went to the small set of stairs and pulled CJ up behind me.

It took some time before we reached the offshoot we needed to go down. "This way," I said, pulling her down a small tunnel tributary to our right,

"Where are we going?" she groaned, she sounded exhausted,

"The door we used to get into the tunnel from the road only opens one way, we need to go around to use a different door,"

I heard her sigh behind me. I was tired too, and I felt like my legs might give way at any moment. The way back was all uphill and drops of sweat were forming on my forehead and there was a burning sensation in my thighs. The bag I was carrying seemed to have filled with bricks while I was not looking; there was a searing pain shooting up my back. It seemed an eternity before I reached the end of the passageway and tripped the trigger to open the door.

We entered the main passage way which led out to the road where I hoped the cab was still waiting. The moment we stepped into the tunnel we felt a rush of cool, fresh air, a welcome relief after our arduous climb up from the lake. Stumbling from weariness we made our way at last out to the grated entrance door.

I sighed when I saw the cab waiting for us. The rain had stopped however there were great puddles everywhere. Twilight had fallen, and the moon and several stars could be seen shining out of the sky above. We reached the cab and I pulled open the door. Dumas and Le Roy sat opposite each other, which was a damn shame because it meant I would have to sit next to either Dumas or Le Roy. I let CJ climb in first, and it was only then that I realized I was still holding her hand.

I let go. CJ limbered into the cab; she sat next to Le Roy. I felt I could have kissed her for that.

"Well, you were gone long enough, what did you find?" Dumas snapped,

"Nothing," I said glumly as I leaned gratefully back in my seat and closed my eyes,

"What do you mean nothing? You had to have found something!" Dumas yelled impotently,

"No sign of anyone at the moment," CJ said to him, and when I opened my eyes I noticed she was rubbing her shoulder.

"Really?" Le Roy said in a strange, high pitched voice,

"Some one was down there though," I said, "I am sure someone was down there,"

"How can you be sure?" Le Roy asked and his voice rose to an even higher, more irritating pitch,

"My music was out of order," I said simply, and Le Roy looked at me oddly, but he did not say a word.

"But the girls, you did not see any sign of the ballerinas?" Dumas asked,

"No," CJ and I chorused,

"Well…I guess you can look again tomorrow," Dumas snapped, and I remained silent; I did not have the energy to fight with him,

"Were you two waiting here the whole time we were gone?" CJ asked suddenly,

"No, of course not," Dumas bristled, "We only came back an hour ago; we had other officers here throughout the day," Dumas turned to me, "What is in the bag Phann?"

"Clothes, money, paper, ink," I listed them off and handed him the bag, "Look for your self,"

Dumas opened the bag, "What do you need money for?" He asked my harshly,

"You never know," Dumas eyed me suspiciously, but he handed me the bag.

It was very difficult not to fall asleep on the ride back to our crumbling house. It was impossible not to fall asleep while we were climbing to our room. I fell onto my bed, not noticing that Dumas had said good bye at the door of the house and Tom had left us at the door of our room.

CJ flopped onto her bed, "I have never been more tired in my life," CJ said, rolling into her back.

I grunted in agreement, "How is your shoulder? I saw you rub it in the cab,"

"It hurts like hell, but I think I can sleep it off," she murmured; we were quiet for some time and I had almost fallen asleep when CJ spoke again,

"Erik?"

"Yes?" I jerked out of my semi sleep,

"Thank you for earlier today,"

"What?" I was confused, what was she talking about?

"In the fire, thank you for pulling me out,"

"Oh, that," I said, waking up slightly more and staring at her in the dark, "What were you doing down there anyway? Didn't you realize what would happen if you stayed down there?"

CJ sighed, "Do you remember when I told you about the mother who killed her two children? Remember I mentioned she had another daughter? Bernadette? I took in her and her younger brother, they lived with me for about a year, of course I had to leave them alone while I was working, and one day…one of the tenants in the lower floors lit a fire, and it got out of control…"

I shook my head sadly, no wonder she had seemed nervous to enter the house, and had wanted to stay and help more, she had been burnt once before.

"I'm sorry," I offered bleakly.

"It was not your fault, it was just…one more thing to happen," she sighed, "I just wanted to thank you,"

"I would not have left you down there,"

She turned and in the moonlight I saw her smile, "Good night Erik," she closed her eyes.


	19. What is not there

When I finally woke up, the sun was already high in the sky. It was a bright, cloudless day; the storm having finally passed. I felt so sore from my activity the day before; each time I moved my legs a hot pain ripped through them. The solution was simple for me however; I just stopped moving.

I lay staring at our disgusting ceiling; there were water marks everywhere and cobwebs in the corners. I let this image slide out of focus and I wished very much that I could just lie in my bed the whole day and forget the troubling problem under the opera.

It was very strange to think someone else was down there, using my house. However, after seeing my music, I knew someone had been inside. I had not left the sheets out of order, I knew that for certain. Then the clean house made sense; who ever it was had wiped it clear of any dust which might have betrayed a foot or handprint. They had put everything in order so as not to arouse suspicion; the only mistake had been with the music.

Who ever the killer was, they could not read music. In any other situation, this would not have mattered, however in an opera house it ruled out quite a few people; anyone in the orchestra, and most of the singers. It did leave the stage crew as possible suspects; and I suppose this was the most likely conclusion. Members of the stage crew were constantly creeping around where they did not belong. One of them could have discovered a passageway.

I tried to sit up, but immediately I felt a stinging pain in my back and I resigned to my former position. My thoughts traveled back to the opera; I still felt as though I did not have the right answer. It would have taken days to clean the house the way it had been cleaned, so how had they known we were coming? And if they had known we were coming, why go to all the trouble of canceling their presence? Why not just kill CJ and me?

"I can't move," A voice groaned suddenly, and I turned to see CJ was awake,

"Neither can I," I tried to lay on my side because it hurt my neck to turn to look at her, but that hurt even more, so I gave up and looked back at the ceiling.

"I hope that is not going to be a problem," CJ said, rubbing her shoulder.

I glanced over at her again, "How does it feel this morning?"

"Better than it did last night,"

"Is that saying much?"

"No,"

I tried sitting up again, my reason being I wanted to see if her shoulder was swollen or not, and in one quick movement I sat straight up. Immediately I was frozen with pain, every muscle felt as though it was ripping apart.

"That was a mistake," I groaned as I forced myself to remain sitting, CJ was laughing at me from her bed, "I'm glad you are enjoying my agony," I retorted,

"I am a bit, thank you," CJ laughed,

The pain in my body was dulling slightly, so I turned to face CJ; another mistake; this movement sent a fresh wave of aching soreness through my body. Thankfully, this pain subsided quickly, leaving only a dull throbbing, but I was able to move.

CJ was looking at her shoulder, but from her position lying on the bed I could tell she could not really see it. I stood over her, moving the shirt I had given her so that her entire shoulder was exposed. It looked swollen and the bruising around the wound had deepened. Peering at the bullet hole itself, it was still clean.

I shook my head, "I wish I had something cold to put on your shoulder,"

"Is it really that swollen?"

"It's not so bad, but it would hurt less," I sat back on my bed. CJ slowly sat up, wincing as she did. She gingerly stood and stretched her legs and arms, before flopping back onto her bed. Rolling to her stomach she propped her head up with her good arm.

"Have you thought any more about the opera?" She asked me,

I went to rub the sleep out of my eyes when I realized my mask was still on; I must have been so tired the night before I had forgotten to remove it. I pulled it off and immediately my face felt better.

"I have," I said heavily, "But I still don't know who we are looking for,"

She shook her head slightly and laughed, "Do you hear us? We signed on to be assassins, not detectives,"

"I think we were better as assassins,"

CJ nodded, "So, what do we know?"

"About the opera?"

"Yes,"

I considered for a moment, "We know someone kidnapped five girls, and one is dead; we know someone did get down to the house after I left it last; we know who ever it was went to great lengths to disguise their presence, and that they cannot read music; and we know that who ever it was knew we were coming,"

"And none of that really helps, does it?"

"Not very much,"

CJ let her head drop from her hand back to her bed, "Is there any way this is just some guy off the street who happened to find his way into the tunnel, or is it more likely that it is a member of the opera house?"

"I don't think it could be some random person off the street; if it was I don't think they would be taking ballerinas, and it is _very_ unlikely that anyone could find the tunnel passageways with out any knowledge of the opera,"

"So how would one go about finding that hidden tunnel?" CJ asked me,

"Well, if you explored the area down there long enough you might find something, or if someone showed you where to look,"

"Your friend told the police where to find the door, they just kept missing it," CJ said quickly,

"Yes, he is really the only other person who I know for sure could get down to my house, and he would not have told anyone else," I said slowly,

"So maybe we are looking for a police man," CJ said softly, and she stared up at me, peering directly into my eyes,

I blinked; "Maybe,"

I had thought Dumas would have come to us very soon, however the afternoon had already begun to pass before we had a visitor; and it was not at all who I expected. Le Roy came bustling into our room, a bright smile on his face and what appeared to be a picnic basket in his hand.

"Good after noon to you two!" He said brightly; my only response was a grim stare. One would never have been able to detect that he had a killer on the loose by his cheerful demeanor. He put the basket down on CJ's bed and took out two large loaves' of bread, a hunk of cheese, and a bottle of wine.

"That certainly is a lot," CJ said in an amiable voice; I knew she treated Le Roy in this pleasant manner because she did not trust him, but she did not want him to know that. However, it still bothered me.

"Only the best for you," Le Roy said, and I did not think it was fair for him to be able to say something so trite without bursting into flames.

CJ blushed and averted her eyes; by the look on her face she was trying to keep from laughing.

"Eat you two, I am afraid you are going to be in for quite a night,"

"Where is Dumas?" I asked, taking the loaf of bread CJ was passing me,

"He is busy, there was a murder he had to attend to," Le Roy said gravely, "So you will be dealing with me tonight," Wonderful, I thought,

We ate in awkward silence for some time. CJ and I exchanged occasional glances, and I avoided looking at Le Roy. CJ was almost finished with her food when Le Roy spoke again;

"CJ? I need to barrow you for a time, would you mind terribly, following me?" He made for the door,

CJ gave me a suspicious look, however she stood and followed Dumas to the door, "I will return later, Phann," He said over his shoulder as he hurriedly ushered CJ out the door,

"Good bye, Erik!" CJ called to me over her shoulder, before she disappeared through the door. Le Roy shut the door behind them with a loud bang, and I heard it lock.

I quickly ran to the door and put my ear to it, but all I could hear was retreating footsteps. I did not like this turn of events at all; CJ had gone with Le Roy and I was alone again. Even though I knew CJ had not really _left_ me, I still felt the pang of shame that came with not being invited to go somewhere.

Turning I looked around the now empty room and realized it was the first time I had been in there with out CJ. I moved glumly back to my bed and took up the piece of bread I had been eating. I looked at it a moment, then I let it drop back to the bed. I picked up the bottle of wine instead and took a large swig.

I was picturing what Le Roy and CJ might be doing; I really had no idea what they could have been up to, but whatever it was I knew Le Roy would be charming and CJ would blush. I took another drink; I hated that she blushed and smiled coyly when he was around. I knew it was not genuine, but it still bothered me, it was something she did for him and not for me. It reminded me of the way Christine had treated Raoul…damn Raoul…

Well on my way to draining the bottle, I wondered why it irritated me so much. I had never really thought much about me feelings toward CJ; I had always thought about my feelings toward my angel Christine.

Now I thought about CJ. I felt protective of her, I hated to see her hurt or upset. I was starting to enjoy it when I could find an excuse to touch her; my uneasiness at human contact was slow to dissipate, but it was eroding. I was appreciative of the way she treated me, not as though I was a loathsome creature but as though I was just a normal man.

Christine had not treated me that way; Christine had been afraid of me, I thought as I gulped the wine. She had been terrified of me, she had pitied me but she had been repulsed by me. I thought of my ring I had taken for her, and I reached into my pocket to get it out. My hand scooped empty air, so I checked my other pocket, it was not there.

I stood and wildly searched my pockets for what I realized I would not find. I had left the ring in the pair of pants I had discarded the night before. I sank back down on my bed, my hands still in my pockets. I snorted, I knew hoping the ring would suddenly appear was about as good as hoping Christine would suddenly love me; I was searching for something that was not there.

It was strange though; that I had left the ring. I suppose I had just had other things on my mind. Looking into the bottle, I saw there was only a sip of it left, so I drained it. The room seemed to spin slightly, and there was a strange aching in my stomach and a pounding in my head. Groaning, I lay down on my bed.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes the sun was almost touching the horizon. I sat up quickly and immediately regretted it. My head was still aching, and I wished I had not emptied the bottle of wine.

I was about to tell CJ so but then I realized she was not there. Odd, I thought, I would have thought she would have been back by now. Walking across the room I tried to open our door; however it was still locked. Sinking back on my bed I wondered what she was doing with Le Roy that could be taking so long.

It was just as I was pondering this that my door opened. Looking up, I saw Le Roy enter, and I waited for CJ to appear. To my disappointment, she had not followed him into the room.

"Come along, Phann, time to go," He spoke in his usual annoyingly cheery voice; however there was a hint of anxiety in it.

"Where are we going?" I asked, slipping my mask back on and standing,

"The opera house of course," Le Roy said, leading me out of the room and down the stairs, "CJ is there already,"

"How did she get there already?" I asked bewildered as we stepped into the cab, "How did she find the entrance to the lake tunnel?"

"Oh, she is just waiting in the tunnel by the road, not the one you two went down yesterday,"

"Why is she waiting there?" I asked coldly,

"You do ask a lot of questions don't you?" Le Roy said as the cab pulled away, and I stared at him, why was he dodging my questions?

"So what _is_ she doing there?"

Le Roy paused a moment, then he smiled at me, "You seem awfully concerned about what Mademoiselle Bradshaw is doing," I shifted awkwardly, "Are you in love with her, Phann?"

"No!" I snapped back,

"Really? I mean, I could understand that, she is a lovely girl," I shook my head and looked away; I did not want to talk to him.

The rest of the ride was quiet and I was relieved when we reached the opera house. I jumped out of the cab, Le Roy behind me carrying the makings of a torch. I pulled back the grated door and suddenly a light from over my shoulder illuminated the tunnel; it was empty.

"CJ?" I called out; however there was no response,

"Maybe she is inside further?" Le Roy suggested; we both walking into the tunnel. I was becoming quite nervous now; all my senses were on alert. The darkness in the tunnel seemed more sinister than usual, the air seemed closer, and the hairs on the back of my neck were on end. And, we were nearly to the off shoot leading to the house by the lake with still no sign of CJ. We reached the secret door and stopped.

"We need to find CJ," I said,

"Perhaps she has already gone down the tunnel to the lake?"

"She could not find the entrance in the dark," I was very worried, what if she was lost somewhere? What if she was hurt?

"She did have a torch with her," Le Roy said lightly, "I was not going to leave her here in the dark,"

"Why did you leave her here at all?" I snapped angrily,

"Are you sure you are not in love with her?" Le Roy asked smiling, honestly, I wanted to kill him then and there and blame it on the murderer.

"Would you just answer me?"

Le Roy sighed, "I left her here to watch out for the killer,"

I shook my head, if the killer did use that entrance, he would certainly see CJ and either turn around or…I did not want to think about the or. Sighing, I guessed that if CJ had wondered, she the only logical place for her to go would be to this spot and try to open the door. She was not here, so I guessed that somehow she had found the door. I resolved to go down to the lake and see if she was in the house. If she was not there, I would search for her else where.

Pushing the correct points, I opened the door. Le Roy followed my inside. The door shut behind us and the sound of the locking mechanism clicking back into place sounded ominous, as it never had before. I hurried along this tunnel, nearly slipping once on the downward sloping floor. Le Roy stayed silent behind me; it occurred to me that it was strange that Le Roy was being so quiet; however my thoughts quickly turned back to CJ. Finally we reached the drop off. I instructed Le Roy to follow me to the steps and we hurriedly descended. Le Roy was oddly sure footed for never having been down here before.

The boat was in the exact spot it had been in the night before. I felt cold inside, CJ was not in the house; if she was the boat would be on the other side. However, I wanted to look anyway.

Le Roy and I got into the boat and I pushed it off from shore. Le Roy put out the torch in the lake water and picked up an oar. I paddled as fast as I could, making the boat travel in a slight arc from the stronger strokes on my side. If I had thought it had taken a long time to get across the lake the night before, than this time I felt as though it took years. I jumped out of the boat before it even really hit shore; getting my pants wet as I splashed through the water to get to the house. I was being reckless; too loud and too conspicuous, I was not even bothering to avoid the view of the darkened windows.

Pressing my ear against the wall of my room, I listened; nothing. I slipped inside, Le Roy right behind me. I pulled open the coffin; nothing. Stopping to listen again, I hear naught but the eerie lapping of waves against the shore. I pulled open the doors of each room we had been in the day before, they were all empty and untouched.

I was getting a bit frantic, I knew I was searching for something that was not there again, but I kept hoping she would appear behind the next door, smiling at me and asking me what the hell I was getting so worked up about.

I went into the kitchen and saw the glasses and the bottles I had left out untouched on the counter. One of the doors of the cabinets was open a bit and I pulled it wide. It was the wine cabinet. I stared at it, it appeared that two bottles were missing…

Before I could think about it a second longer, Le Roy cried out in a shaking voice, "Ph-Phann! I think you had better come and see this!"

I bolted in the direction of his voice; to my horror he was standing in front of the open door of the torture room. My heart dropped to my stomach, and I had to force my legs to take me forward, "I should have just told her what was in the room," I groaned as dashed toward Le Roy, "Then she would not have gone and looked inside,"

I pushed past Le Roy and entered the room, prepared to see CJ hanging from the iron tree. However, she was not there. No one was there. I rush of thoughts flooded my mind, stunning me. Before I could act on them, I was pushed fully into the room and the door slammed shut behind me.


	20. Getting away with murder

Authors note: This chapter contains some violent descriptions which may not be suitable for all readers, but it is probably ok so read on!

And when you are done, don't be shy, tell me what you think!

Chapt. 20

Immediately, the lights in the chamber flashed on and the heat began to rise;

I whipped around, "Le Roy! Open this door!" I shouted angrily,

"Open the door! What a ridiculous suggestion! Of course I am not going to open the door, after I worked so hard to get you in there! Why would I ruin it all now?" His voice sounded lightly amused,

My face was burning with rage; thinking he could trap me in my own trap, I knew I should have killed him when I had the chance. I went quickly to the secret release which would allow me to leave the torture chamber. However, when I looked for the small round button, it was not there,

"Ah! Looking for the trap door release?" I heard Le Roy say wickedly, "It is not there anymore! It took some time to rip it out and fix the floor, nearly two days, but watching you now, it was _well_ worth it!

I felt a chill crawl up my spine; he was right, it was not there; and without it there was no way for me to exit the chamber; I was trapped. I looked around wildly, searching for something that would help me or for an idea that would get me out of here. Unfortunately, I knew there was none; nothing would help me now. I did not think I would go mad inside, I knew it was all an illusion, a well simulated illusion but an illusion none the less. However I did know that there was now no way to escape; I would most likely starve to death inside.

"Are you wondering, Monsieur _Opera_ _Ghost_, what exactly is going on?" Le Roy asked me; and by his tone he was sickly amused with the whole situation, "Do you want to know why I trapped you in here?"

"I am not trapped in here," I lied coldly, making sure my voice was clam but venomous, "There is another way out, and if you force me to use it, if you do not open this door right now, I swear I will make your end most…_unpleasant_,"

Le Roy actually laughed at me, which only made me more furious, "Oh what an amusing joke! What a bluff! Oh let me open this door right now, before I incur your wrath in full!" He was laughing wildly, then he suddenly stopped and his voice became cold, "I have spent some time on my little projects down here, and I know for a fact that there is no other way for you to get out of that chamber,"

What else could I say? There _was_ no other way out; I remained silently fuming, how had I let this happen?

"Are you ready now, to hear my story? You are in for a real treat, it is a good story," Le Roy's voice was light and amused again. I silently clenched and unclenched my fists, trying to keep myself from beating angrily at the glass panels of the chamber,

"I will take your silence to mean you are ready for me to tell you…"

I cut him off suddenly, "You are the killer we were looking for, you killed that girl and kidnapped the others," I had realized this the moment I had burst into the torture chamber and found it empty, then I suddenly felt as though I wanted to vomit, "What have you done with CJ?" I demanded,

Le Roy ignored my last comment however, "So, you finally figure it out, yes I am the 'killer,' to bad you were to late in realizing it to save yourself!"

"Where is CJ?" I asked again, and again he ignored me,

"But I really did so much more than what you are giving me credit for, I mean, my whole plan is quite impressive really," he sounded sickly amused and proud of himself,

"There is nothing impressive about kidnapping defenseless women, and where is CJ!" I was shouting now,

"Oh! Look who is playing moral leader now! How dare you judge me! You, a convicted murderer and _stalker_, don't try to tell me I acted wrongly!" Le Roy burst out angrily, then he managed to compose himself,

"As I was saying, my whole plan is quite impressive. You see, I should have been made the Chief of Police, not that Fillips fellow, and instead I was made only a captain. I was treated with contempt and condescension; even by my subordinates! It was not fair,"

I turned to face the direction I knew Le Roy was watching me from, "So, the night you were arrested, I developed a plan that would show them all!" He shouted triumphantly, "I would create a crime none of them could solve, then I would show them just how idiotic they were compared to my brilliance!"

"What did you do with CJ?" I said slowly, shaking all over with rage at what this fool had done,

"The whole thing was working perfectly of course; everyone was baffled and I played along, all the while laughing behind their backs! Oh, you should have seen the looks on their faces when they found the dead girl in the tunnel! I really did my job well with her, she was a gruesome sight," His voice trembled slightly with relish and I shuttered; I had met wicked people before; and I was twisted in my own right, but Le Roy was a new kind of sick; and it made it worse to know he had been alone with CJ earlier,

"The only problem for some time was that one man, the one who died, he found out too much so I had to eliminate him," Le Roy spoke as though he had done nothing more than pull a weed out of a garden, and I remembered Dumas telling us that one police man had already died in the search for the killer,

"Anyway, then I found out about you it nearly ruined everything; I had been counting on the fact that no one else could find out how to access the tunnel leading down here where I kept my work. Then when I found out you were alive, and where going down to the house, I needed to act quickly," Le Roy was sounding excited now as he explained his actions to me,

"I needed time to move the remaining girls and clean the house,"

"The cave-in?" I asked, still trembling in an effort not to bang my fists against the glass,

"Very good! That gave me a whole day! And then there was the fire…"

"_You_ set that building on fire!" I growled, "Innocent people died in that fire!"

"Spare me your moral lecture; I am not the convicted murderer here!" Le Roy yelled, "I was just doing what I had to; I was hoping you and CJ would burn to death; I knew if you passed the house on the way to the opera Dumas would stop and make you try to get people out, however the fire was supposed to be worse, the rain made it less so, shame really,"

I shook my head fuming as I thought about the two children who almost burned alive because of this man's delusions,

"But it did give me time enough to fix this chamber so you could die in it," Le Roy chuckled, "I wanted you two to come down here and find no trace of anyone, then the crime would be all the more impressive when I solved it, however…"

"You made a mistake because you are too moronic to read music,"

"Language language! Don't snap at me _Phann_, I made one simple mistake, and of course, it did little damage because you are still going to die,"

"And CJ? Where is she?"

"My God! You are _persistent_, aren't you? I really do think you are in love with her, or are you still pining away for dear Christine?" He said this last name with as though he was releasing poison. I felt the blood drain from my face,

"How did you know about her?" I asked, voice shaking,

"Why your friend the Persian! You see, he _told_ the rest of the police where to find the tunnel doors, but it was impossible and most of the police thought he was mad anyway so the search for the other tunnels was abandoned. However I needed to find out where they all were for my plan to work, so I went back to your friend the Persian,"

The heat of the torture chamber was starting to make me sweat, however I felt cold inside as I listened to Le Roy,

"He was most helpful, I told him I was doing a follow up of the original investigation, and he actually took me down and showed me exactly where to find everything, explaining your sad tail because he thought I was interested; he thought it might help with the investigation; I learned a lot about you pathetic life that day,"

I shut my eyes and shook all over; I felt unable to move though the chamber around me seemed to be spinning,

"I was told all about the room with the crib in it; what kind of a creature do you have to be to keep something like _that_? And he told me all about how you were in love with Christine, and how she had tried to kill herself rather than stay with you…"

I shook with sadness as he described that particular event. I felt as though I was drowning, but I fought to right myself. I refused to fall apart because of him, I would not break down,

"I have met her, you know," Le Roy said suddenly, "I have met this Christine of yours, I know her _husband_ Raoul; she is quite a pretty thing, why on earth would you think she would want anything to do with you?" Le Roy was laughing again,

Glaring up to where the observation window was, I fought the ringing in my ears and managed to speak, "Where is CJ?"

"Ah! So you will not be distracted! Very well, let me tell you," He savored each word in a frightening way, "When I first developed this plan, I was going to blame the murders on the Persian, him being the only other person who knew how to use the tunnels. I would say he was crazed and trying to avenge you or something; that was why I did not kill him right away. However, when I found out you were still alive, I changed my mind; I can frame _you_,"

"No you can't, Dumas knows where I was at the time of the kidnappings," I retorted, but I had a bad feeling he had worked around this fact,

"Ah yes that was a problem, but then I realized, when I produced your body, it would be obvious you had not been executed on schedule, and then Dumas and Fillips would have to explain why you were not beheaded; their careers would be over, leaving room for me to take their place!"

"Fine, kill me, I don't care, but tell me what you have done to CJ,"

"Oh how heroic you sound!" Le Roy exclaimed, "Don't worry, I am getting there; you see, once I no longer needed your friend the Persian, I had to eliminate him because he could have told someone he had led me down to the lake. So, I told CJ that we were sure the Persian was the killer and she was to kill him. I said you would not be coming because you having been his friend compromised the mission,"

"CJ…_killed_ him?" I whispered this more to myself than to Le Roy; I felt saddened, the Persian had been my only friend for some time. I shook my head, he never should have gotten involved with me; only bad things happened to people who got involved with me,

"Yes she did, and this is the part I think you will really like," Le Roy paused for affect, he seemed to have been building up to this point, "After CJ came out of the Persian's apartment, I made her a proposition; if she let me have her, I would let her go free,"

I stepped toward the observation window, furious, "She would _never_ do that!"

"She did Phann," Le Roy laughed evilly, "She let me have her right there in the ally like a common whore,"

I finally lost control and slammed my fist hard into a glass panel; the only affect was a pain in my hand, the glass remained unbroken, "She wouldn't do that!" I yelled,

"Jealous are you? But then you were always jealous of me, CJ always paid more attention to me than you, I think she rather liked me, the little fool, as if _I_ would ever desire a common girl like her,"

"She hated you!" I screamed, "She thought you were a fraud and a fool!"

"That is not what she said in the ally," Le Roy retorted, then he laughed wickedly as I continued to beat angrily at the glass, "Phann? Don't you want to know what I did then?"

I stopped hitting the glass; Le Roy's voice had become eerily calm and cold as he spoke these words to me,

"After I was through with the little whore, I strangled her until she lost consciousness," I fell to my knees, "Then I slit her wrists and watched her bleed to death; I think her trousers were still around her ankles where I left her,"

I loosed a howl of rage and pounded against the glass wall of the chamber over and over and over again, screaming half in anguish, half because I was trying to block out Le Roy's wicked laughter. I beat the glass to no avail until my knuckles started to bleed.

My stomach was sick as I pictured CJ lying dead in some ally; I did not think that she had willingly given in to Le Roy, but I did think he could have raped her, and then…I could not bare to think of her dead, I had not even said goodbye to her! I felt hot tears mingle with the sweat on my face, and I slowly lost the energy to beat the wall any further.

Sliding down to the floor, I could still hear Le Roy laughing mockingly, calling me a pathetic fool, taunting me for loving both Christine and CJ only to have them both be with another man. I was no longer listening; what he was saying hardly mattered; he had said enough.

CJ was dead. I sat with my back to the glass and my head in my hands. I had been a fool for so many things; I should have realized Le Roy was up to no good, I should have stopped her from going with him, and I should have told her how much I cared for her. Thinking back to earlier in the afternoon, I pictured her leaving for the last time and I heard her say good bye to me and I realized to my horror, I had said nothing back.

I had never felt so powerless; even with Christine I had been in control, _I_ had sent _her_ away. Now as I sat, a spider caught in my own web, I realized that this was how Christine must have felt while I had been threatening to kill Raoul. The difference was that I had not actually killed the boy; for one brief moment I thought that perhaps somehow Le Roy might have been lying, and that CJ was still alive. I quickly abandoned that hope however, knowing I was not so lucky, and that Le Roy had no feelings which would stop him from doing just what he had said he had done.

One last idea came into my head, one final rally to gain my freedom. I blinked back the salty liquid falling from my eyes and cleared my throat,

"Le Roy!" I yelled, and at first there was no answer, "Le Roy!" I called again,

"It there something I can do for you Phann? Is there a part of my genius plan you do not understand?" Le Roy's voice drifted into the chamber,

"Where are the remaining girls?" I tried to keep my voice even,

"You mean the ballerinas? I am glad you asked! I built wooden coffins like the one in your room and sent them inside of it, they are behind the house now,"

I shuttered, "Are they still alive?"

"Yes! There are air holes in the coffins and I let them eat and drink, and I plan on keeping them alive as long as you are alive, I can't have my victims dying after my murderer can I?" he laughed,

"Don't do it," I said heavily, "Don't kill them,"

"Why ever not?" Le Roy asked lightly,

"Because you will regret it, believe me I know, I was like you once; I used to think the world owed my something and I was going to settle the score, but you _will_ regret it,"

"The only people who have regret are the weak ones," Le Roy sneered,

"That is exactly what I used to think, but it changes you, murder changes you. You start to hate everything else just to avoid hating yourself. You isolate yourself because you can not look at people in the eye, and in your loneliness the only voices that reach you are the screams of victims, and the only faces you see are ones with glazed over eyes,"

Le Roy remained silent, so I continued…

"I suffered this fate, believe me I wish I could go back, but it is not too late for you! Just let the girls go, let me take them back up to the surface, I will take the blame for their kidnapping, just let us go…I am trying to do you a favor,"

I waited in silence for his reply, hoping somehow he would change his mind and let me out. I knew it was unlikely, but it was the only idea I had.

"You have a strange sense of humor Phann, and also an overdeveloped hopefulness if you think I am going to let you out of there," Le Roy gave a short laugh and then I heard his footsteps retreating. He was gone.

I rested my head in my hands; I did not know what else to do. CJ was dead, I was trapped, and Le Roy was well on his way to getting away with murder.


	21. Recall to life

Authors note: the end of this chapter is rate for sex, so if it is not your thing I will put a warning up and you can just skip it,

Chapt 20

What I guessed to be about an hour passed while I sat in the torture chamber. I was not afraid of the jungle around me or the unpleasant heat generating from the new floor of the chamber; I was too miserable to be bothered with any of these things.

I closed my eyes to see CJ, however when the image of her became too heartbreaking to think about, I opened my eyes again. It was all too much; I had barely begun to heal from Christine, and now my heart took another blow at the loss of CJ. It had not even occurred to me how much I cared for her; I had trusted her beyond any other person I had ever met, she had understood me and accepted me, and I had let her down.

I felt quite pitiful, sitting in the chamber as the deathly illusion played around me. I wanted to do something; CJ was dead and I was just sitting on the floor weeping.

However there was nothing for me _to_ do. I had just resolved to beat my fists against the walls until either they broke or I died when there was a loud noise from somewhere in the house. I pressed against the smooth glass as hard as I could; but I could hear little. Two voices were yelling; one male one female. I could hear loud banging; as though someone was being thrown against a wall.

I sank back down to the ground; I assumed Le Roy was hurting one of the poor ballerinas, and there was nothing I could really do. The sounds of the fighting stopped and I wondered if the girl was alright or if Le Roy had taken her life. I buried my head in my hands again.

It was then that I heard something I did not expect; footsteps running toward the door, then I could hear someone trying to turn the doorknob of the chamber, but it was locked.

I jumped to my feet, "You need a key, Le Roy must have it!" I heard a gasp and then hurried footsteps running away. I stood, every muscle tingling; one of the ballerinas must have overpowered Le Roy somehow. It seemed unlikely, but who else was down here? She must have taken him by surprise…

The ballerina returned and I heard her place one key in the lock and try to turn it, then she tried another. I could hear the sound of the keys jingling as the girl's hand shook and she tried one more key, and finally I heard a key turn and click. The door flew open and I was ready to thank my unknown rescuer; however, the girl I was staring at was not a ballerina.

At first I thought I must have been dreaming; I stood gaping and I could hardly walk out of the chamber. I came slowly toward her; afraid that she was an apparition which might dissolve if I moved to swiftly. She was smiling at me, eyes shinning, soaking wet from the lake, and I did not know how she could possibly be real.

I wanted to touch her to see if she was really there or if she was just a ghost. I reached out my hand slowly, afraid I might disperse her with my hand as one would wave smoke away after the candle has been put out.

My hand moved and cupped one side of her face, and to my joy she did not disappear. I was so overwhelmed I felt tears of happiness roll down my face and I did something I had never done before; in one motion I wrapped my arm around CJ's waist and pulled her to me, pressing my lips gently to hers.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and let the keys she had been holding drop to the floor. I kissed her with more force as her mouth opened to mine. My hands moved up and down her back, all the while pressing her closer to me.

When we finally broke apart I looked down into her bright green eyes. I placed a hand on the side of her face, stroking her temple with my thumb; I wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, and that I was so relieved because I had thought she was dead, but no words came. Instead I brought my hand to the back of her head and tilted it upward, taking her lips once again with mine.

I had never kissed a woman like this before; so passionately and deeply. I was so blissfully happy she was alive; not to mention that I was no longer stuck in the torture chamber; I thought little about propriety or bashfulness. I tilted her head further up and kissed her from her jaw to the hollow of her throat.

"Erik!" she gasped with pleasure, and I knew that for the moment I had to stop before we both forgot the fact that we were under the opera and that we still had a job to do. I pulled my lips off of her and held her for a moment as we both caught our breath. Her head fell onto my chest and I stroked her wet hair with my hand,

"I thought you were dead," I breathed, holding her tighter,

"I thought he was going to kill you, I thought I was too late," CJ said softly into my chest,

"We should leave," I said, removing CJ's arms from around my neck. She nodded and we made to exit the room. As we walked every thought which had been pushed away from my mind when I had seen CJ flooded back,

"Where is Le Roy?" I asked her,

"In the dinning room," CJ said ominously, and as we passed it I stopped to look inside. The room was brightly lit with candles and lying on the ground was a warning never to cross CJ Bradshaw.

Le Roy was bleeding from his head where CJ had thrown him into the wall; his leg stuck out at an odd angle indicating it was broken, and his face was covered in one large bruise.

CJ was staring at him with an evil gaze which I knew I mimicked, "Is he dead?"

"I don't think so, I tried not to kill him; death is to kind a punishment for him,"

I nodded, "We can lock him in the torture chamber until the police can come down to retrieve him,"

"They should be waiting for us when we go back up to the street, I sent your friend, Nadir, to go and fetch them,"

Together we hauled Le Roy to the chamber and threw him in, locking the door behind us. I felt a great deal better now that he was locked away.

I picked up a candle and handed CJ one as well, "He said he hid the ballerinas behind the house in coffins," I led CJ out the front door and we moved around to the shadows behind the house. Holding the light out in front of us four shapes appeared; the coffins.

Running to them, I knelt beside one; it was nailed shut, "Wait here," I ran back to the house and returned with a hammer and began to pry the nails out.

"Do you have another hammer?" CJ asked me, holding both candles so I could see what I was doing,

"No," I said as I hurriedly ripped the nails from the wood. It had not been nailed shut all the way around, only in enough spots to keep the girl inside from opening it. When I had finally pulled up the nails, I tore the lid off.

Inside a petrified looking girl stared back at us, her mouth gagged and her hands tied. CJ quickly set down the candles and began untying the girl as I moved on to the next coffin,

"You are alright now, we are here to help you," I heard CJ tell the shaking ballerina, "We are going to take you out of here,"

I opened two more of the wooden death beds; both of the girls inside were alive; just scared out of their minds and incredibly frail looking. CJ was untying the dancers when I opened the last coffin. I blinked as I stared down at the girl; I recognized her. Little Meg was trembling, staring up at me.

Out of all the people at the opera, I had had face to face contact with very few of them. Madame Marie Giry had been one of the few, and I shuttered as I thought about how worried she must have been with her daughter missing.

Meg Giry looked horrified at me, however she, along with the other dancers, were far too weak to do anything but follow CJ and I back around to the boat.

All the girls got wordlessly into the small craft but I dashed back to the house, I wanted to get CJ a change of clothes. I retrieved another set of my clothes for her and then turned to leave. As an after thought, I grabbed all the blankets off the bed in the Louis-Phillip bedroom for the shaking dancers.

CJ and I rowed as quickly as we could back across the lake. The hike back up the tunnel was not an easy one; the candles we had brought from the house offered little light, and the disoriented dancers found it hard to walk.

"Aren't you…aren't you…" Meg began stuttering at me as we scrambled up the tunnel,

"No," I said firmly, and she was so feeble she did not press the subject. Instead, she slumped to the floor,

"I can't…" she groaned, and I picked her up, placing her thin body over my shoulder,

As we trudged up the tunnel, finally entering the main passageway to the street, there was a great change. The tunnel was lit with torches and lanterns being carried by policemen,

The next moment we were surrounded by police, all talking quickly though I heard nothing that was said and the only image which truly registered in my mind was a swirl of color. The police carried the dancers the rest of the way out of the tunnel, one of them taking Meg from me. One man made toward CJ, and I quickly grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to my side; she was mine.

Stepping out of the caves I saw that the whole street outside was lit with police lights and there was a great deal of men in blue uniforms running around. Quite a few other spectators had gathered as well; people from the opera and people who had simply been passing by and stopped to see what was going on under the famous Paris Opera.

Shouts came from the crowd as our group emerged from the tunnel. Some people from the opera recognized the girls and ran toward them. I heard one particular cry and saw Madame Giry run to her daughter. I quickly turned away; I did not want her to see me and reveal who I was.

"Erik! CJ!" the voice of Captain Dumas cut through the general buzzing around us and I thought it was odd that he called us by our first names, but I was not going to read too much into it. Dumas guided us in a fatherly manner over to a police cab and ushered us in.

I sat with CJ beside me, my arm still around her. She was trembling slightly due to wearing wet clothes in the night air and I pulled her closer to me.

"What happened?" Dumas asked, and I had never seen him look the way he did at that moment; he looked concerned.

"I don't even know where to start," CJ sighed, and she turned so she was leaning back on my shoulder and my chest, "Le Roy came to us this afternoon,"

"He said you were busy so he was dealing with us tonight," I added, and CJ nodded along,

"I had to see to another murder, that bastard," Dumas muttered,

"He asked me to go with him and we went to the apartment of Erik's friend the Persian, the one who I sent to get all of you," CJ said, and I listened intently,

"Le Roy told me the police were sure Nadir Khan was our culprit and I was to kill him, but I did not think that made sense; to kill him and not to arrest him,"

"Good call," Dumas said nodding approvingly,

"Anyway, I went up to the apartment while Le Roy waited on the street. Instead of killing him, I asked him if he had ever met a foppish police man who wanted to know about the opera," I snorted beside her, "He told me he had once shown a police man around the tunnels down there who said he was following up on the investigation of the Opera Ghost,"

So far everything CJ said was exactly what Le Roy had told me had happened and I listen as the two stories began to vary,

"I realized Le Roy was the killer or at least in league with the killer; but the problem was he was watching the apartment, waiting for me to come back down. We went out the back door of the apartment, unfortunately Le Roy saw us and started chasing us. This lasted quite awhile," she sighed exhausted, "We kept losing each other, then finding each other, then accidentally finding Le Roy, then losing each other again," she shook her head and turned to look at me, "Your friend does not run very well, I kept having to go back and pull him along,"

"He is a bit older CJ, you cannot be too hard on him,"

"Are you calling me _old_, friend?" A voice said suddenly and I turned to see my friend Nadir standing in the cab door. Dumas rolled his eyes and slid over allowing the daroga to climb up and sit inside,

"Well now that we are all here, would you continue please?" Dumas said irritated,

CJ nodded, "We finally saw him give up and wave down a cab driver. We waited to make sure he did not turn around. I wanted to go back to the house to warn Erik, but I did not really know where it was so by the time we found it Erik was gone. Then we had to walk over to the opera house; we were walking everywhere because neither of us had any money,"

"CJ!" I interrupted, "There is a whole bag of money I brought up from the opera!"

CJ stared at me, "Well, a little late for that but thank you for making me feel like a complete idiot,"

"Any time," She ribbed me,

"So we finally walked there, and Nadir," she motioned at the Persian, "Showed me where the door was and I went down to the lake; it took me quite a while to get down there because it was completely dark in the tunnel, I was feeling my way along the sides," She turned to me, "You had better not tell me there were hundreds of candles I just did not see," and I shook my head at her,

"I had to swim across the lake because by the time I got down there Erik and Le Roy had already gone across," I was amazed at how much she had done to get down to the house by the lake; to get down to me,

"I went in the house through your room Erik, then I surprised Le Roy while he was in the kitchen. I hit him in the face but he grabbed me; I pulled his hair and he let go, I hit him in the head with a candlestick, and I ended up breaking his leg," I thought of the crumpled mess I had seen Le Roy in and I wondered what Dumas would say when he saw the body,

"Then I ran to the torture chamber and found Erik,"

"Le Roy had told me she was dead," I said, tightening my arm around CJ and I cursed that wrecked weasel for lying to me, "He told me a great deal else besides and I am guessing all of this is true; he created the cave-in and set that house on fire to stall us while he moved the girls and fixed the house to make it look like he had not been there; he planned on framing me for the murders of the dancers, and then it would come out that you," I looked at Dumas, "Had allowed me to not be executed, and it would ruin your career,"

Dumas nodded, "So where is Le Roy now?"

"In the chamber in the house by the lake,"

Dumas turned to the daroga, "Can you take some of my officers down there and bring our good friend up to the street level?"

He nodded, "Of course," He turned to me, "I will see you later, have a good night," and he stepped out of the cab,

"I have to go as well, plenty to see to, but I am sending you two back for some rest," I had never been more thankful to hear those words,

Dumas got out of the cab and we were alone. We heard him say something to the driver, and the cab started to move away. I did not pay attention to where the cab was going as it parted the gathered throng around the opera house.

I did not pay attention because CJ was in my lap, turned in what could not have been a comfortable position for her but what was a _very_ comfortable position for me; I kissed every inch of her I could reach, and my hands explored each curve of her figure. I had never ever been allowed to touch a woman this way, and it felt wonderful. What was even better and even more stunning to me was that she returned my affection; she pressed her lips to mine in the same hungry way I did to her; she clung to me tightly and made soft, pleasure filled noises as I held her.

Being thus occupied it was understandable that we did not realize we were at our destination until the driver yelled at us to get the hell out of his cab. CJ grabbed me by the hand and pulled me up to our room. I did not notice anything on the way up the stairs; there could have been a giant elephant at the head of the stairs and I would not have known,

Finally reaching our room, CJ went in ahead of me and I shut the door behind us. CJ turned around and I was right in front of her, drawing her to me and pressing my lips to hers, opening her mouth to mine in a way I had only ever dreamed of doing. She raised her hand to my face and pulled my mask off. My immediate reaction was to pull away, but CJ did not give me a chance. She wrapped her hand around the back of my head and kissed me passionately.

I pulled my lips from hers abruptly and she gasped slightly,

"I think you should get out of those wet clothes," I said to her, and she smiled wickedly at me,

"Do you think you could help me with that?" she flashed her eyes innocently at me,

"I can try," I replied in a noble tone as I moved my hands to the buttons on the shirt she was wearing. I was excited and nervous as I unbuttoned the wet shirt; I wanted to be with her more than anything, but I did not want to make a mistake,

(_Start to skip if you don't want to read the Sex and the City ish scene_)

I reached the last button of her shirt; because it was wet it had clung to her and did not fall away when I had undone it; rather I had to strip it off of her. She stood completely still; her only motion was the steady rise and fall of her chest as she took in deep breaths of air,

Her bright green eyes encouraged me and I lifted her shirt off of her shoulders and let it fall to the ground. I just stared for a moment at her; even though I had seen her without a shirt before, now I was able to touch her. I put my hands around her waist; guiding her backwards until her legs hit the bed,

"Lay down," I said gruffly to her, and she quickly dropped on her back onto the bed. I got on top of her; straddling her body with my knees. I leaned over her and kissed her swollen lips, then I moved to her neck, then down to a place I had never been before.

I slid one arm underneath her, then gently placed my other hand over one of her breasts; massaging her and watching as her nipple hardened at my touch,

"More, Erik," CJ groaned, "I want more," I replaced my hand with my mouth, taking her breast fully into it and sucking harder, causing CJ to make the most beautiful sounding whimpers of pleasure.

I moved to her other breast and blew on it slightly before I caressed it with my tongue. Her hand moved to the back of my head and pushed me down harder onto her, arching her back as she did so,

My hands traveled the curves of her torso as I continued to kiss her breast, "Erik," CJ moaned my name and grabbed a fist full of my hair and pushed my lips to her harder again,

Finally breaking away from her chest, my lips trailed lower, down her stomach to her naval. I sat back from her and stared at her; she was breathing heavily and her arms were raised above her head. Looking down I saw her legs were parted slightly, and I also saw the troublesome top of her trousers.

I moved my hands and undid her pants; she raised her hips off the bed as I slid the wet clothing off of her; revealing her entirely. I stared at this newly uncovered part of with desire; I placed my hands on either side of her hips as I lowered my mouth to her.

"Erik," her voice trembled as much as her body did, "This is not fair, I am completely naked and you aren't at all,"

I did not abandon the area between her legs until I made her cry out my name. Then I stood and began undressing. CJ watched me from the bed as I tossed aside my shirt and then my trousers. Her legs spread beneath me as I lowered myself onto her; savoring the feel of her skin against mine. I kissed her neck again and she groaned,

"Erik, please," And I could not deny her request; I entered her and began to thrust slowly,

CJ sighed and dug her nails into my back as I thrust faster and harder; I felt her tighten around me and a tremor went through her body and she cried out. I released inside of her moments later; she sighed as my seed spread into her body.

(_Alright, it's safe now….)_

I had never made love to a woman before, and I had been very nervous I would do it wrong if I ever got the chance; but by the look on CJ's face and the way she pulled me down beside her I had not. If I had not felt so exhausted from the rest of the day I would have wanted to make love to her all night.

However, I was exhausted, and CJ's eyes were closing. We managed to get under the one thin sheet on the bed and I wrapped my arm around her and held her close. She was asleep within moments; but I stayed awake a bit longer. I was feeling better than I had in some time; I had finally slept with a woman. I had been completely heartbroken when I had thought CJ was dead, and now she lay peacefully asleep in my arms. As I closed my eyes I felt lucky for the first time in my life.


	22. The end and the beginning

Authors note: Ok, there is a little sex in the beginning of this chapter, but I promise I am not going to turn this story into a tawdry sex story…as fun as that would be. And one final plea; review! I want to know what people think of the direction this story is going in! Ok, I am gonna shut up now…

Chapt. 22

Sleep had never really been a pleasant experience for me; most likely because I used to sleep in a coffin, which is in no way comfortable, and I was constantly visited by nightmares which prevented a deep sleep.

However, with my arm wrapped around CJ's waist and her body pressed against mine, I enjoyed sleeping. She possessed a warmth I had never experienced before; the dampness of the caves had always given me a clammy feeling and I wondered how I felt to her. If she was cold or uncomfortable she gave no sign; she lay peacefully throughout the night.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I could tell the night had passed, however the sun must have been hidden with clouds because the room was lit by only a grayish glow which indicated another storm.

I cared little about what the weather was doing. I propped myself up with one arm, careful not to wake CJ as I did. Moving my arm which was wrapped around her, I lightly stroked her stomach; causing her to shift slightly and smile in her sleep. I stared at her; her hair fanned out beneath her head, her eyes shut, and her arm over mine. I could not believe this woman had consented to lie with me.

Slowly, I watched her eyes flutter open. She glanced up at me with her enticing emerald eyes and smiled,

"How long have you been up?" she asked,

"Depends on what you mean by 'up,'" I answered with a wicked grin,

CJ let out a beautiful laugh and rolled onto her back and I stayed with my head propped up on my hand, moving my arm up to the side of her chest. It was strange to think that the day before I had thought I would never see her again, and now I was seeing more of her than I had ever imagined.

"Did you really think I was dead, Erik?" she asked me softly, raising her hand to stroke the marred side of my face,

"I did," I said sadly, moving my hand closer to her breast,

"What did he say?" She asked

"You don't want to know, it would only upset you," I said, shaking my head,

"Why did you believe him?"

"Everything else made sense," I said, "And when you are trapped in a torture chamber you tend to believe everything for the worse," I did not want to think about those hours when I had believed her to be dead, and I made that clear.

(_Enter Sex scene here_)

I leaned down and kissed her, moving my eager hand over her breast. In moments I was inside of her again, rocking her until she trembled and I released. I rested only a short while before I felt the need for her once more. I kissed her roughly as I entered her again, and I noticed that if I thrust slowly yet forcefully, it made CJ writhe in the most rewarding way. Finally, because CJ begged me to, I increased the speed of my thrusts and finished her. I was ready to take her again when she stopped me,

"No, Erik, I can't, not again, not yet," Her voice was pleading,

"What is wrong?" I asked worried,

"I just…it hurts…" I looked down to her legs and I saw bruises on the insides of her thighs and on her hips,

"Oh God, I'm sorry," I hated myself, I knew I would do something wrong, I had hurt her,

"No! No! It is not your fault! This happens; you're just so big…they will go away soon, Erik,"

But I was already moving from the bed, ashamed. However, CJ had no intention of letting me slink away. With a great tug, she caught me by the arm and pulled me back down to her,

"Where the hell did you think you were going?" She asked, pinning me down on the bed by holding my shoulders and straddling my hips,

I reluctantly looked into her eyes, "Are you sure you are alright?"

"I am _fine_,"

"I didn't mean to…"

CJ sighed and lowered herself to me, sliding her hands down my chest and kissing me; I lightly placed my hands on her, I was afraid to hold her too tightly after I had seen her bruises, but as she kissed me harder and let her hands move lower, I could not help but grasp her harder and move my hands down to her round buttocks.

(_End Scene_)

A knock on our door stopped us both dead, "Just a minute," CJ yelled as she scrambled to get her clothes back on. I hurriedly did the same; knowing full well that who ever was out there could open the door at any moment because it was locked from the outside.

"Come in!" CJ called when we were both decent again. The door opened and two men entered; Dumas and the man who I had seen him talking to the night I had first been asked if I wanted to join in this little experiment Dumas was carrying out; Fillips, the Chief of Police.

"I assume both of you had a good night last night?" Dumas asked, knowingly eyeing us. We both nodded; we were seated side by side on the end of one bed and Dumas and Fillips stood in front of us,

"Excellent," Dumas said sarcastically, "I will have you both know that everyone at the opera is very grateful, and the mother of one of the girls especially wanted to thank you two; and she seemed to already know who you are Phann, so I thought; why not?" Dumas turned to the door and I saw the waiting figure of Marie Giry in our doorway.

She stepped hesitatingly into the room; her eyes were still red and swollen from crying. I stood awkwardly as she came toward me. For a moment she just stood staring at me looking for the words she wanted to use, then she gave up and tightly embraced me. I lightly patted her back; slightly embarrassed knowing Dumas, CJ, and the Chief of Police were all watching.

When she pulled back, I could see she had started to cry again; "Thank you for bringing her back," she croaked out as she wiped her eyes, "we were all so worried, and after I found out about poor Genevieve…" I assumed she meant the unfortunate dancer Le Roy had killed,

"How is Meg?" I asked her,

"She will be alright; there were no serious physical injuries, she is just frightened and hungry," Marie said with a greatful smile through her tears, "But she is alright, thanks to you,"

"Not just me," I moved so she could see CJ, "You owe her your thanks more than you owe me," It was true, if CJ had not come down and set me free the rescue would not have been possible. Marie looked over to CJ and for some reason; I sensed a tension between the two,

"Oh…thank you very much," Marie Giry said to CJ, her voice sounded a bit less heartbroken,

"Not at all," CJ said and her voice was kind, but she narrowed her eyes a bit,

"There Madame," Fillips spoke for the first time, "We have let you give your thanks as you wished, but now we must talk to these two, so would you kindly go wait in the cab?"

"Of…of course," she dabbed at her eyes, then embraced me one last time before reluctantly leaving. When I turned, I noticed CJ had narrowed her eyes even more,

"Well that was sweet, was she a former fling of yours Phann?" Dumas asked in a mocking voice,

"No," I said quickly, feeling CJ's eyes on me, "She used to help me, while I was at the opera,"

"Sure," Dumas teased dryly, and I glared up at him. CJ did as well; I don't think she ever forgave him for the night with the doctor.

"Alright, to business," Fillips cut in, "The experiment it over," he said with gravity,

I felt the my insides freeze over; if he meant that Dumas's idea was no longer going to be used, did that mean CJ and I went back to prison?

"Relax Phann, you are not going back to prison," Dumas said, reading my mind, "The reason the experiment is over is because you are the only two that are left; the others are all dead; you killed two, two more tried to run and they were shot, and then the last two ended up killing themselves,"

"So what does that mean to us? Are we going to be free?" CJ asked skeptically,

"No, of course not," Dumas snapped, "But there does not seem to be a point in pretending that you two are going to run away or that you are vile criminals, so we are going to make a change,"

"What kind of change?" I asked

"Don't interrupt me again!" Dumas yelled at me, "We are going to take you two on as detectives,"

I stared, "What?"

"Now don't get too excited, we can't pay you full wages, and of course CJ you will be given less because you are a woman," At this CJ flew off the end of the bed in anger and I had to grab her to hold her back,

"Dumas, you saw Le Roy's body after they brought him up for the opera didn't you?" He nodded, "If I let her go that will be you," Dumas took a step back,

"We will work something out," Fillips cut in, stepping between CJ and Dumas and CJ stopped struggling to break free of my hold on her. Even though it was no longer necessary, I kept my arms around her waist,

"You two should be thankful," Dumas said, "You both should have been executed and instead you end up working for us," He shook his head, "This was _not_ part of the original plan, but now that there are only two of you, it seems ridiculous to pull other police officers off of their jobs to guard the house and to have to supply you with food, so from now on you two are going to be on your own. The house is yours to tend to; we can't do anything else with it,"

"How kind," I said sarcastically; the house was falling apart and quite disgusting,

"Well, it is no Versailles palace, but we could kick you out onto the street and let you live in an ally, so show a little gratitude,"

"I want you two to know this is still a very risky move for us to make, we really should not allow it," Fillips said seriously, "But Dumas had convinced me of your worth, and I don't think he could really stand to let you two die; you see, that was what I was planning, after last night I was planning on coming here and taking you two back to prison where you would await your respective executions, however Dumas would not let me, he told me you two were worth keeping, and he had better be right,"

"Exactly, so CJ, next time you want to kill me, think about the fact that I saved your life _twice_," Dumas stated, and I felt CJ lean back against me, she did not say anything, but I got the feeling she _was_ grateful,

"So tomorrow, you two, be at the police station on Rue Etrange by nine o'clock, don't be late, and don't disappoint," Fillips said, and with a curt nod both men turned and left the room, not shutting the door behind them,

"Wait!" I called suddenly, and Dumas and Fillips turned around and looked at me, "What is going to happen to Le Roy?"

Dumas and Fillips exchanged awkward glances and I stared at them; finally Fillips spoke,

"I am afraid this is the sort of thing that happens when the criminal turns out to be a rich man's son,"

"Don't tell me..." CJ said, and I felt her start to shake with anger,

"No charges will be pressed against him," Fillips said gravely,

"What!" I yelled, "He committed multiple murders; he is a sick lunatic and he is just going to go _free_?"

"Not unlike someone else I could think of," Dumas said to me, and I took the hint; I had committed multiple murders, and I was not in jail, "That is something you need to learn Phann, the thing about justice it, it is not always just," With this nugget of wisdom and a meaningful look I did not understand, Dumas and Fillips left the room.

CJ and I both walked out of the room and watched Dumas and Fillips go down the stairs and out the front door, then we turned to each other,

"Can you _believe_ this?" CJ asked me excitedly, embracing me, "I _never_ thought we would be this close to freedom,"

"I had hoped that maybe someday this would happen, but I did not imagine it so soon," I said, thinking back to my plan about earning clemency in order to then win back Christine. Suddenly my thoughts flashed back to my dark haired angel and I wondered what it would be like to spend a night with her like the one I had spent with CJ. Blinking, I pushed these thoughts away; I did not want to be under her power any more.

CJ was pulling me down the stairs to explore our new home and I followed her. There were other doors leading to vacant rooms all containing two beds; one of these rooms had giant blood stains in it, for where the suicide had taken place; we quickly left this room.

There was a kitchen and a dinning room; it appeared that the house had once been a respectable place, but now it had fallen into disrepair and would most likely stay that way until the end of its days.

In the kitchen we found the remains of food the guards had left and we hungrily ate them. It was very strange to be sitting at a kitchen table eating knowing that I was not going to be locked in a room later in the evening.

"We could go outside, we could go for a walk," CJ said as we finished eating,

"I think it is going to rain," I said, glancing out the murky windows to the gray sky above,

"So, I was soaking wet last night; thank you for the dry clothes by the way," I blinked and then remembered that I had brought her another change of clothes the night before; in my hurry to get to our room I had forgotten I was still holding them.

"I don't like to go outside when it is still daylight out," I said slowly, and CJ stared at me,

"Well I don't care what you _like_, we are going for a walk," I turned away; I hated the way people stared at my strange appearance when I was outside so I avoided it as much as possible,

"I bet I could bribe you," CJ said evenly,

"I don't think you are supposed to bribe a police man,"

CJ laughed, "You are getting better at the humorous thing; that was quite amusing," She compose herself; "Seriously, do you want to hear my bribe?" I nodded and she left her seat across from me and I turned to face her

She took my face in her hands and pressed her lips to mine, mouth open so I could taste her. She pulled away just enough to speak, "I have much more to give than that," she whispered and I willingly followed her out the front door.

The road outside was nothing wonderful; it was small and crooked and crowded. When the older roads of Paris were being built, some genius had purposefully decided to make the width of the streets small; the reason being the memories of marching armies and angry mobs was still embedded in the constructer's minds, and if the streets were small; no large army could easily march through them.

Now these streets were filled with garbage; people were bustling everywhere going about their every day business, they did not even notice CJ and me. It was strange to be walking down a road in the broad daylight; my arm through CJ's.

I think this was what I found the most strange; that I was walking down the street and I was not alone. It was odd to see someone walking alone and not be one of those people. This thought gave me strength to walk in the daylight.

"So," I said after a time, "Are we looking for something particular here?"

"No," CJ said, "I just want to see what is around here, since we are going to be _living_ here,"

"And what a beautiful place it is!" I exclaimed dryly, "look at the scenic garbage pile just over there,"

CJ laughed, "Adds a real romantic feeling to the area,"

We walked only a bit further before it began to rain and we turned around; by the time we got back to the house it was really starting to storm, thunder roared and lightning split the sky. We threw the door open and ran inside. I realized we had no way of locking the door and I wondered about a key; but not for long.

It was the perfect day; hard rain and loud thunder barring any further thought of outdoor activity. At first I had been worried that CJ would want to start cleaning the house or do some other activity I associated with homemaking. However, CJ showed no desire to do any of those things.

She walked straight up to our room and I gladly followed. She flopped down on the bed and I lay down beside her. I lay on my back and wrapped my arm around her. CJ turned so she was laying half on top of me,

"I am still exhausted," she said smiling, "I think it is going to take me thirty years to catch up on sleep,"

"You are not even thirty years old, are you CJ?" I asked her,

"No, I am twenty four," she said absently twirling a piece of my thin hair, "How old are you?"

"I don't know for certain," I answered honestly, "My mother never told me what my birth date was,"

"I think that means you get to pick one for yourself," CJ said lightly, as though not knowing your own age was a fairly normal thing,

"Than I pick today,"

"Do you even know what day it is?" she laughed,

"No," I said, "But I still want today to be my birthday,"

"Fine, happy fiftieth birthday,"

I grabbed her, "I am _not_ fifty, not even close,"

"You might be,"

"But I'm not,"

"It could be true," CJ teased,

"If it was, how would you feel about knowing you slept with a fifty year old man?"

She stared at me, "Alright, you are not fifty,"

"Thank you," I said satisfied,

"I suppose I owe you a present," she said in mock exasperation,

"I know what I want," I told her as I covered her lips with mine and pulled her down on top of me…

I spent the rest of the afternoon receiving my 'birthday present,' and we were spent long before the storm outside wore out. We were lying in the bed; clothes scattered about the room; when for the second time we were forced to scramble to keep our privacy. We heard loud footsteps on the stair and I barely had my trousers back on before our door swung open. CJ had not had the chance to collect her clothing and she pulled the sheet tightly around her as Dumas barged into our room,

"Is this all you two ever do in your spare time?" He asked exasperatedly

"Yes, it is," I snapped angrily as I pulled my shirt back on, "And I wish you would stop interrupting us,"

"Well if I can't than you can't," Dumas snapped,

"What are you doing here?" CJ asked, and I sat down in front of her, trying to block Dumas' view of her,

"I have one more job for you two to do, I will be waiting downstairs," With this he turned and left,

"I wonder what he is going to have us doing," CJ muttered as she retrieved her clothes and put them back on,

"I have no idea," I muttered as I waited for her by the door. Together we walked down and met Dumas. He led us outside, but to my surprise there was not a cab waiting for us.

"We are walking tonight," Dumas said gruffly, and we turned down the street. The rain had stopped for the moment but there were large puddles everywhere. It was particularly dark this evening due to the heavy clouds and I welcomed the cover of night.

"Where are we going?" CJ asked after a time,

"I will tell you when we get there," Dumas said stoically without turning to look at CJ. She shrugged and walked on in silence.

Despite the approaching night and foul weather, the streets were still busy with activity of the more nocturnal, and also more devious, occupants of Paris. Almost everyone we passed took care to conceal themselves in shadow and carry out their business in whispers.

I had to admit, the three of us did cut impressive figures amongst this background of shifty and potentially dangerous characters. We walked imperviously amongst them, striding purposefully in the direction Dumas was leading us in; most slunk away as our three tall figures walked by.

Eventually, these suspicious characters faded away and we were walking down a more respectable street which contained blackened shop windows. I still could not think where we were going…as we went further the shops turned to town houses, then we turned down another street which was lined with large trees and some of the grandest houses in Paris. It was then that I realized where we were headed…

Dumas stopped in front of one of these houses; it had a long driveway which was lined with shrubs and the white house was framed by tall trees.

"Le Roy is in that room; first window on the second floor; you should be able to access it from the window, I left it unlocked when I was in there earlier; I don't think I have to tell you two to make it look like an accident,"

"Not at all," I said; I had been right when I had thought we were headed to Le Roy, "Was this what you meant about justice earlier?" I asked Dumas,

He nodded, "Sometimes you play by the rules and you still end up losing; you have to make your own justice,"

"So when the law does not allow you to reach the end you want you just break it?" CJ asked,

"There is nothing lawful about a man getting away with murder just because he is rich; and believe me, when you see things like this happen over and over again you feel like the crime of killing the perpetrator is secondary compared to him getting the just punishment,"

"I was not arguing with you," CJ said, and Dumas nodded,

"I am not going to wait out here, I can't risk letting anyone find out about this; as far as any of us are concerned we were never here," Dumas whispered,

"Say no more," I stated, and Dumas disappeared into the dark shadows of the pleasant road. I looked up to the house; it was very beautiful and proper looking; one would never have guessed that inside there was a crazed murderer who was about to be the victim of an assassination.

Silently, CJ and I made for the house; using the shadows cast by the shrubs for cover. There was still a light on in the downstairs; however I could hear no sound coming from the house. We made it to the side of the house which was lined with a neat row of low bushes.

The bottom limb on the tree was quite high up; however with a great jump be both managed to grab the branch and climb up. We had to go up a bit higher to reach the window where Dumas had said Le Roy was located and I hoped the tree would hold us.

We got to a limb from which we could see the right window; and peering inside we could see Le Roy resting in a bed.

"How are we going to do this?" CJ whispered,

"I have an idea," I whispered back, and I moved toward the window. Just as Dumas had said, it was unlocked.

It was a careful balancing act to push open the window without falling to the ground below, but somehow I managed it. The window made a frightening scarping noise as it shot upward, and for one tense moment I stopped and looked into the dark but lavish bedroom, holding my breath and watching Le Roy. Thankfully he did not wake.

I climbed stealthily into the room and CJ followed me. We crept to his bedside; two deadly shadows in the night. I had regretted most of the murders I had committed, but I hated this man; I hated him for lying to me, for trapping my, for what he had tried to do to CJ, for the fire, and for what he had done to the poor dancers of the opera. As I remembered the sickened tone in which everyone spoke about the body of the murdered ballerina, I did not think I would really regret killing this man.

As we walked to his bedside, I passed a desk on which several vials had been placed. Picking each one up I inspected them; they were all pain reducers and sleeping serums. I smiled; if Le Roy had taken these, there wan no chance of him waking suddenly while we were still in the room.

I stared at the sleeping killer; only his head was visible above the sheets and the lavish comforter. CJ seemed to realize I was going to take care of this, and she went to press her ear against the door; keeping watch.

Le Roy's head was bound in white gauze, and I carefully unwrapped it. He had a nasty head wound where CJ had smashed him with the candle stick. There were neat stitches holding the skin in place. Carefully, I pulled the stitches open. It was only a moment before blood began gushing from the head wounds; the cuts were large enough so that they would not clot before it was too late; Le Roy would bleed to death.

It was really disgusting to watch the blood cover his face; and I had to think again about the haggard faces of the ballerinas as they emerged from the coffins they had been set in to die to keep from re bandaging him. I turned his body and put his forehead to the head board; suggesting that he had had a spasm in his sleep; not too far fetched considering all the medicine he had probably taken, and hit his head; reopening the stitches.

Going over to CJ, I tapped her shoulder and motioned toward the window. We left Le Roy to bleed to death and slunk silently down the tree, disappearing into the night like two restless shadows.

"Their doctor should have been more careful putting those stitches in, then maybe they would not have popped out like that," I said sarcastically when we had walked far enough away from the house,

"I know! Can you believe that?" CJ said evenly, "I think we just gave new meaning to the phrase 'you made your bed, now lie in it,'"

I nodded. I knew Le Roy was a wicked, evil man who would kill again if given the chance, but I still shuttered at the image of his blood covered face. We reached our house again and trudged up the stairs. Warily I dropped into my bed, and CJ lay down beside me and closed her eyes. I was a bit surprised; it had not occurred to me that she would want to sleep next to me even if we were not making love.

A whole new set of realizations came to me at that moment. CJ might want more than a physical relationship. I had been so relieved when I had seen her alive I had just acted without thinking. I had been heartbroken when I had thought she was dead, but I was not sure I could really loved her. A part of me still belonged to Christine; or maybe part of my heart had been ripped away by Christine, and I was not sure what was left to care about CJ. I wanted to, I wanted to love her; but I also did not want to be hurt by her if ever she tired of me.

Wrapping my arm around her, I vowed I would try not to think about my beautiful Christine and that I would try to move on. CJ whispered goodnight and I softly kissed her head. I wanted very badly to be in love with her.


	23. Burked

We woke early the next day. Neither of us were sure where we were going and we wanted to get a head start. I took some of the money out of the bag I had brought up from the opera and put it in my pocket.

As we left the front door I remembered that we still had no way to lock the house and that I would have to ask Dumas for a key; if there was a key. We headed in the direction CJ believed the Rue Etrange was in. We would have to walk until we reached a road that was respectable enough to have cabs that could take us to the police station.

It took awhile to find a cab, but we finally did, "Police station on Etrange," CJ called out to the driver as we climbed in. I was feeling way out of my element. I hated being seen in the light of day; I loathed the strange glances I was given due to my odd mask. Even though most did not stare with open mouths, I still knew what they were thinking.

CJ seemed to notice my discomfort, "Are you alright?" She asked me evenly,

"I just…I am not usually around this many people," I muttered,

"Are you going to be able to deal with the fact that now we are going to be expected to interact with human society?" CJ said mildly,

"Do I have a choice?" I grumbled,

"I really don't think you do," She smiled at me,

Our cab stopped and we got out. We were standing at the end of the Rue Etrange; a respectable middle class street which had many small café's lining it. We walked down it, and finally spotted the police station. It was a fairly well tended building of a decent size. There were people walking in and out of the red front doors, and CJ confidently walked inside; I came in behind her.

Immediately we saw rows of desks with policemen on one side and in most cases troubled looking citizens on the other. There were stacks of paper high on every desk, and the whole place had a generally disorganized feel to it.

One man who had been sitting looking at paperwork when we came in now approached us. He was tall and solidly built with a mess of dark curly hair, "What do you two need to report?" He asked us in a hurried voice, quickly raking his eyes over my mask and CJ's unconventional dress,

"We need to speak to Captain Dumas," CJ said evenly; it was clear she felt more comfortable in this situation than I did,

The man stared back at us skeptically, "You want to speak to the _Captain_?"

CJ was about to say something else when Dumas appeared behind the policeman,

"You two are two minutes late," He said hurriedly to us, then he turned to the policeman, "Leo, these two are working for us now, this is Erik Phann and CJ Bradshaw," We both nodded at Leo who was still eyeing us skeptically, "Phann, Bradshaw, this is Leo Denton," Leo offered a grim nod of acknowledgement,

"Right," Dumas said, he clearly had a lot to do that day and did not want to spend all his time introducing us, "You two, follow me," CJ and I walked behind him as he headed to the back of the station and opened a door on which the name Eugene Dumas was etched in black.

Dumas's office was fairly small and contained an oak writing desk and two wooden chairs. As with the desks we had seen when we first entered the station, there were piles of paper stacked on top of his desk. Dumas moved around behind his desk and we sat in the two wooden chairs. On top of the mess of papers there was a copy of the day's newspaper which Dumas picked up and threw to the front of his desk where we could see it.

The headline read, Tragic Death, Blake Le Roy succumbs to head wound,

"The whole article is a bunch of lies about how he was injured bringing the Opera Killer to justice, and that his family along with the whole police force are mourning the loss of his talent," Dumas shook his head bitterly, "But the point is; is was an accident, good work,"

We stayed silent, so Dumas continued, "Alright, here is all I have time to tell you; there is one desk open out there," He motioned to the station outside his office, "You two can share it. The head of your department is Lieutenant Henry Harris; he and everyone else are going to hate the two of you for awhile, but I am assuming you can work past that, now get out of my office and don't act like you are chummy with me; I am not your friend remember that,"

He said all this very quickly and CJ and I just stared at him, "Alright then, get out there, go to work," Dumas dismissed us and we exited his office. Back in the main area of the station house, several of the men seated behind the desks looked up at us skeptically as we moved to the one desk the appeared to belong to no one,

"So what do you think so far?" CJ asked me as we inspected the desk; there were still some old papers spread out across the top,

"I think everyone here hates us," I said grimly,

CJ snorted, "And they don't even know us yet,"

I sighed, "So what happens now?"

As if in answer to my question, a man strode purposefully toward us; he was shorter than myself and CJ and his light brown hair and bright blue eyes gave him a boyish look; but his demeanor suggested that he knew how to intimidate;

"You two are Phann and Bradshaw?" We nodded, "I am Lieutenant Harris, here," he handed me a piece of paper, "This is a street address; someone reported finding a dead body there. From what the man said it is probably not a murder, but you have to go and check out the body anyway; just rule that it is not a murder and get back here, someone should be waiting to pick up the body," he was turning to go but then he added, "Remember, you two are only here because Dumas suggested it; I did not want you in my unit,"

He walked hurriedly away, "Well, here we go," CJ said to me, and we walked out of the station house, which was rather like walking a gauntlet by the way all the others were glaring at us.

Outside CJ and I climbed into a rickety old police carriage which was pulled by a rather woebegone old chestnut mare. I took the drivers seat and CJ was beside me,

"Where are we going?" I asked and CJ looked down at the paper Harris had handed me; I was more or less worthless when it came to navigating around the city as I had spent most of my years in Pairs in the immediate area around the opera, except when I drove to the cemetery with Christine…

"Rue Agreable, go down to the end of this street and take a left," With these words we set off on what would become a truly death defying ride. The carriage was old, and it did not take turns well, which would have been nice to know _before_ I tried to turn. After the cab nearly fell onto its side, I realized I would have to be more careful. In addition, the horse was completely out of control; for a beast which looked half dead it could run quite quickly when it wanted to; before coming to an almost immediate halt which would send the carriage lurching forward.

To add to the list of things gone wrong; CJ managed to get us lost twice before we finally found the right road.

I was not sure what to expect when we arrived on Rue Agreable; it was a middle class residential neighborhood and I could not imagine a dead body in the street where the house fronts were tidily groomed and flowers poured out of window boxes,

"Over there," CJ pointed and I saw a small ring of people gathered around a figure covered with a sheet,

I pulled over; happy to not be in the moving carriage. CJ and I approached the group and one man, an elderly fellow with expensive dress and white hair, stepped forward,

"Are _you_ the police?" He asked us in almost an appalled voice; CJ and I did not look like police, we did not even have uniforms (not that I was complaining, the gray-blue outfits some police wore looked ridiculous) not to mention my mask usually put people ill at ease anyway,

"Yes," I responded grimly; I did not like the looks I was getting from the gathered housewives and children who were gawking at the body,

"Well it is about time! I reported this hours ago! This man over here;" he pointed to a young looking man who was leaning nonchalantly against a carriage, "He came to pick up the body almost immediately after I reported it! And I have been making him wait because I knew the police needed to look at it and…" he continued speaking but I was done listening to him,

I moved forward and crouched in the center of the circle of people by the body; I still did not like everyone looking at me, but the sooner we got this over with the sooner we could leave,

"Can I have everyone's attention please!" CJ yelled out to the crowd as she stood beside me, "If you would all kindly return to your homes please! This is not a floor show!"

Reluctantly the silent spectators wandered away; all except for the elderly man with white hair and the man leaning against the carriage. I pulled the sheet off the body to reveal the figure of a grown woman, eyes closed.

"You found this body?" I asked the white haired man,

"Yes; it was behind these bushes just here," The man pointed to the corner of the street where there were large green bushes neatly trimmed so that they were all perfect rectangles,

"And you moved the body?" CJ asked the man, kneeling down next to the body as well,

"Well, I was not sure if she was dead or not, so I dragged her out here; when I realized she was dead I ran back to my house to get the sheet from my wife and report the body, and I have been waiting for you ever since,"

CJ and I studied the body; I had never realized how ideal for this job we were. There were many things one learned as an assassin that could not be learned as a police man. Assassins were paid to know all modes of murder possible; as well as how best to cover one's tracks.

However, this woman did not appear to have been murdered. There were no strangulation marks around her neck, nor patches of blood on her clothes indicating a wound, and no skin decolonization to indicate poison.

"Looks natural to me," I murmured to CJ,

She nodded, "I wonder who she was," Then she turned to the old man, "Did you know this woman?"

"Certainly not," The old man sounded appalled once again; I assumed it was because the body of the woman was dressed in tattered clothes and had dirt all over her face, she was clearly poor,

"Do you get many people like her walking down this street?" CJ asked skeptically,

"No! this is a respectable area; we don't get beggars or pickpockets here,"

CJ nodded, "So what is _she_ doing _here_?" She muttered to me,

"I don't know," I mumbled back, then I straightened up; "Monsieur…?" I asked the elderly man,

"Ghant, Max Ghant,"

"Monsieur Ghant, you said you found the body over here?" And I pointed to the grass behind the row of bushes,

"Well yes," He said uncertainly, "But, she was closer to the bushes; she was under them really, but she was not behind them, she was on the street side of the bushes; I almost did not see her,"

I thought about this for a moment and something was defiantly wrong; I had never heard of someone feeling as though they were about to die and then scrambling under a bush. I looked at CJ; she had stood and was regarding me with a furrowed brow.

"Are you two done?" A new voice said from behind me and I turned to see the man who had been leaning against the carriage had walked toward us, "I was supposed to be back hours ago,"

"Who pays you to cart off these bodies?" CJ asked with a raised brow,

"Government program," the man answered,

"I never heard of it," CJ said bluntly,

"Well, _mademoiselle_, it is new program; we pick up unclaimed bodies and transport them to medical schools; this one was supposed to be at the Royal Institute of Medicine about a year ago,"

CJ glanced at me and I shook my head, "No, we are not done yet,"

However, we could find nothing else indicating foul play; the only marks on the body were deep, red scratches on her shoulder; and they would not have been fatal. It seemed we had no other choice than to give up the body and head back to the station. We helped the young man place the body in the open cart the cab was hooked up to and he quickly drove away, taking a sharp turn which almost tipped his cab.

Bidding goodbye to the elderly Max Ghant, we got back into the perilous police carriage and headed back for the station. We found our way back with greater ease; but the cab still rocked dangerously if ever we took a turn too fast.

Lieutenant Harris was not pleased when we returned,

"What in hell took so long?" He barked,

"We had a problem," I said shortly, and Harris was not impressed,

"What _kind_ of problem?" He snapped,

"We got lost," I said when I could think of no other thing to say,

"Sweet Jesus! You were _lost_?" He threw his hands up in the air and walked away; muttering something about getting what you have coming when you hire a woman and bizarre looking man.

The next few hours CJ and I spent doing monotonous paperwork; transferring information from one sheet to another, reading complaints people had sent into the station, and other trivial things. Around two o'clock, Harris asked CJ and I to go down to the basement and bring up several boxes. When we returned from this task, we found the station was completely empty.

Puzzled, we walked outside. Then we saw that all the police men were across the road in an outdoor café taking their lunch break.

"They could have been a bit less obvious about not wanting to include us," CJ said, but by the tone of her voice she did not find the situation too troubling. All I did was walk back inside.

Sitting down again in the deserted station house to begin never ending paperwork was far from what I wanted to do and I almost missed the crazed cab ride we had taken in the morning. I would take almost falling out of a cab over almost falling asleep any time. And then I wondered…

"CJ," I said suddenly, and her head snapped up; happy to be distracted from the work we had been assigned to do,

"Yes?"

"The body of that woman, it was found under the bushes on the street side of the hedge right on the _corner_ of the road…"

"So?"

"So, did you see the marks on the side of her shoulder?"

"I saw them," CJ blinked, then her eyes widened, "You think…?"

"She fell out of a cab and then rolled onto the ground,"

CJ considered for a moment, "So she falls out of the cab, and rolls under the bushes, and the driver does not notice, and there was no blood…"

"She must have been dead already," I said,

"So we have a cab carrying a dead body speeding down a respectable street, it must have been last night because it was only found this morning," She shook her head, "And now the body is at the Royal Medical Institute,"

"The Royal Institution of Medicine," I corrected, earning a disapproving stare from CJ,

"Either way, I think we should go take another look at the body, if we can,"

I nodded standing, "Better than sitting here,"

We left the station and got into the same treacherous cab. From across the street I heard Harris call out to us, but I ignored him and drove the cab away.

We only got lost once trying to find the Rue Agreable, and we only almost died in the tilting cab twice. The second time this happened, CJ scolded me,

"You drive like a maniac," she said seriously,

"I am a maniac, remember?" I said dryly,

"Ah! All those maniac things; sleeping in a coffin, the mysterious mask…I almost forgot about that," She responded with light sarcasm,

"Don't forget that knowing you alone is enough to make someone a maniac,"

"You really know how to complement a woman don't you?" CJ said shaking her head,

We finally reached the street and I slowed the cab considerably. We reached the end of the road where Agreable intersected with Etat and where we had found the body.

"The cab would have had to turn left here to make the body fall out and roll in the direction that it did," I said,

"So we turn left," CJ stated, and we turned left.

We followed Etat for some time, and I was just beginning to think we would have to turn around and come up with another plan when I saw what we were looking for; a large red brick building on our right had a large sign in front of it which read The Royal Institution Of Medicine.

"There it is!" CJ exclaimed a moment later, "The Royal Medical Institute!"

"It's the Royal Institution of Medicine," I said as I stopped the cab,

"That is what I said,"

"It says the name right there on the sign, I think you could get it right," I spoke lightly as we walked toward the building,

"I think my way sounds better," CJ laughed, and we walked in alongside several confused looking students.

CJ and I followed the signs to the 'operating room,' which seemed like the most likely place for a dead body to be. The room was located in the back of the building, and we quietly pulled open the door and saw a large room in the style of an amphitheater, and a class was in process…

"And now we are going to open the body; we will observe the each detail, ask yours self simple questions about the workings of the body and see if you can answer them; write or sketch concisely in your notes what you see," The man who was talking was a balding professor wearing a white coat and standing behind a cadaver laying on a long table,

"And of course, the man who pioneered this technique of careful observation and notes was…" The professor asked his class, who sat in silence for several moments,

"Come now _someone_ must know," The professor said exasperatedly, then I noticed the body laying on the table was that of the woman we had found earlier; if we wanted to see it before it got cut up, we would have to go now,

"De Vinci was the first to truly observe the human body instead of just looking in the bible or consulting the ancient writings of the Greeks," I said, stepping into the room and walking over to the table. It took every bit of will power I had to make myself enter the room and face all the staring eyes; but I did it.

"Who are you? Should you be in here?" The professor turned to face myself and CJ as we walked toward them,

"I am detective Phann, this is detective Bradshaw,"

"A _female_ detective?" The professor sounded scandalized, "And you, why are you wearing a mask?"

"We need to see that body," I said, ignoring the question,

"Why?" The professor was angry, "You can't just come in here and disrupt my classroom like this you know," But CJ and I were already making our way around the table to see the body,

"Don't worry professor," CJ said evenly, "We will only take a second of your time,"

The body was laid out on the table, completely stripped of clothing. I found the scrapes on her shoulder and discovered now that they went all the way down her side,

"Scrapes, but no bleeding or bruising," I said to CJ, "She _was_ already dead,"

"How do you know that?" The professor stated, coming to stand beside me. The truth was that I knew that because once while moving a man I had killed to a more discreet location I had accidentally dragged him over a jagged piece of glass. Afterwards I had made the observation. Obviously I could not tell the professor this; so I ignored him again,

"Erik," CJ said slowly to me, and I looked to see she was no longer observing the scrapes, but was looking at the woman's chest. I followed her gaze,

"Those marks, there on her chest," CJ pointed and I saw the two large, round marks,

"What is that?" I asked, and the professor stared at them,

"I was not sure…" he said; a lot of good _he_ was,

"They look like…do you still have the clothes she was wearing when she came in?" CJ asked,

"Um…no," the professor stated slowly,

"They look like the indentations of buttons…her dress had buttons on it, didn't it?" CJ looked up at me,

"It did," and then it became clear, "She was Burked,"

"What does that mean?" the professor now sounded more interested than angry,

CJ was nodding, "Somebody sat on her; applying pressure to her chest, until she died," I was not surprised CJ knew what I was talking about; it was a well known technique which took it's name from William Burke…then I wondered how I had been so foolish,

CJ seemed to make the same connection as I did at the same moment, "Where did this body come from?" She asked, her voice high,

"I pay some young chap for them; they he must make a fortune for how much I pay him," CJ and I stared at each other, but the professor continued, "What are you talking about, what does Burked mean?"

"William Burke was a criminal arrested for suffocating victims and then selling their corpses to medical schools for dissection," I sated gravely


	24. Conviction

"Excuse me, professor?" one of the students had finally plucked up the courage to speak up and question our disruption,

The professor turned quickly to his class, "We will be taking a break for the next few moments; please remain quite while I speak to these detectives," I could hear an excited murmur go through the class,

"Are you telling me that you suspect that…this woman was…," The professor stuttered,

"Murdered? Yes that is what we are saying; and it only took you one guess! No wonder you are a professor," CJ quipped

"How much do you know about the man who delivers these bodies?" I asked the professor, who was now eyeing the body suspiciously,

"Nothing at all, not even his name, he just brings the bodies and I pay him, he delivered quite a load this morning, and he said he had one more he was going to get, and then he did not come back for hours! By the time he brought this body in it had been outside so long I almost did not take it, but I did; at half price,"

"This morning…" I mused; that made sense, he was speeding along and the body fell out, then he realized it was missing when he delivered but by the time he came back for it Max Ghant had already found it.

"How often does he come by?" CJ asked quickly,

"Once every two weeks he goes to all the medical school around here," the professor said, "You think the delivery boy killed this woman?"

"Maybe, maybe not, but we need to find him," I said,

"Try the school down two blocks on the right; Ecole Normal, he goes there I think,"

We hurried back to the cab, but I knew it was very unlikely we would find the man we were looking for; he had probably finished his merry route hours ago and was now safely hiding. Still, I raced the cab down the streets, nearly killing several people, and reached the school in record time.

As expected, the man was not there, however one man, a shriveled little thing called Nib who was a janitor at the school said the deliver man had bragged to him about buying a little flat on Rue Cher, 'not a bad place for a deliver man to be' he had said.

I was beginning to wonder if this had been such a brilliant idea to pursue after all,

"I wonder what Harris is going to say when we come back," CJ mused lightly as the cab raced dangerously in the direction the old janitor had told us to go in,

"He will probably tell us to never come back," I really believed this could be our undoing, "Next time we think we should try something like this," I began

"Oh…I will not let it happen," CJ finished.

When the cab came to the Rue Cher, we found ourselves surrounded by decent looking houses; not the grand mansions of the rich nor the crumbling tenement buildings of the poor. However, we had no idea which apartment the man we were looking for occupied.

"Well, any suggestions on how we find this man?" CJ asked as I stopped the cab,

"I guess we will just have to wait and patrol the street until we find him," I got out of the cab and eyed a café which was mixed in with the apartment buildings, "Are you hungry?"

"Starving, but we don't have any money,"

"You are right, _we_ don't, but _I_ do and I suppose I would be willing to buy you something,"

"Oh bless your kind soul,"

After purchasing two éclairs and two steaming cups of coffee, we began our watch of the streets. I hoped that we found this man soon because the afternoon was fast wearing away and I was having a growing feeling that when we returned to the station, we would be dragged off to prison.

We did not find him right away, and I was becoming very nervous when we finally spotted him; he had just left one of the apartment buildings and was walking toward us,

I quickly strode forward and caught his attention, "Excuse me, I need to have a word…" But the moment he saw CJ and I he turned and ran. I sprinted after him, CJ running by my side. I had never run so fast in my life and I found, to my great relief, that either I was good at it or he was bad at in. In any case we closed the distance between ourselves and the run away man and with one last effort, I pulled him to the ground,

"I didn't do anything officer, I swear," the man pleaded,

"Then why did you run?" I asked as I pinned his arms behind is back,

"What is going on here?" An authoritative voice said, and I looked up to see two men in police uniforms walking toward us,

"I am detective Phann, this is Breadshaw," I said hurriedly, hoping he would believe us, "We need to talk to this man about a murder,"

"You two are detectives?" The man asked quizzically; he was tall with a rather enormous pot belly,

"It's our first day," CJ explained and the man nodded,

"I see…," the man said and I could tell he was thinking about if he believed us or not,

"How about this?" the man's partner, a young thin man with sandy hair, "We could take him down to our station house, it is not far, and they could question him there?"

"Don't see why not," the pot belly said, "I am Roberts, by the way, this is Johnson,"

The station house was not far away at all, only several blocks down. We let Roberts and Johnson transport the prisoner as they had handcuffs and a considerably larger cab. The station house itself was almost exactly like the one we had walked into that morning, only the doors were blue, not red.

There was a back room used for interrogation, and our man was led there by Roberts and Johnson, and we followed. In the room, the suspect was made to sit on one side of a table, while CJ and I sat on the other,

"I did not do anything," the man stated for the millionth time,

"What is your name?" CJ asked him

"Why are you asking, darling?" He said, and CJ smiled, then she stood and walked over to the man, then she hit him hard in the side of the head,

"You bitch!" He shrieked, "Can she do that?" he looked at me,

"Do what?" I said with raised eyebrows, "I did not see her do anything, now what the hell is your name?"

"Robert Richardson, and I did not do anything,"

"You know, Robert, I am not inclined to believe you because everything else you have said has been a lie," I said in a harsh tone,

"I never lied!" Richardson yelled, and his eyes darted about the room

"Oh yes you did," CJ said, she was still right behind him and now she leaned over and whispered in his ear, "That story you told us about being a part of a government program, we know it was a lie, so tell us something else,"

"So I lied about that, it is not a crime to sell bodies to medical schools!" He was frantic now,

"It is a crime if you kill the bodies before you sell them!" I shouted back,

"I told you! I did not kill anyone, I don't know how that woman was suffocated!"

I sat back in my chair, eyes triumphant, "How did you know she was suffocated?" I asked evenly, and Richardson's face became pale,

"I was just…it was a guess,"

"I don't think so, you knew she was suffocated because you killed her!" CJ shouted from behind him, causing him to whip around,

"No, I didn't!"

"Alright, enough," a new voice said, and the door opened. A man who looked as though he was the Captain walked in and I guessed he had been listening and watching us through the two way mirror of the interrogation room.

"That will convict him," the captain said, "I will give you two credit for the arrest, but I can have two of my men bring him to jail, if you would rather go back to your own station house?"

I nodded, "Thank you Captain…?"

"Morgan," he said shaking my hand and then CJ's,

"Well, Captain Morgan," CJ said politely, "Do you think you could tell us how to get back to Etrange?"

Several minutes later we were headed back to the station house. We road silently, to tired to say anything. By the time we reached the station on Etrange, it was nearly dark outside.

"Where…the hell…HAVE YOU BEEN!" Harris shouted at us as we walked through the door,

"Solving a murder," I said lightly, and I stared back into his angry black eyes,

"WHAT?" He yelled, "You two take a cab, with out telling me where you are going,"

"We did not want to interrupt your _lunch break_," CJ said icily, and I noticed that several policemen around us dropped their eyes to the ground.

"That is not an excuse," he barked,

"What is all this about?" Dumas had come out of his office and was looking back and forth between CJ and I and Harris,

"They disappeared!" Harris shouted,

"Where did you go?" Dumas asked us calmly,

"We saw a body this morning," I began, "This afternoon we realized it was a murder and we found the killer and he is being taken to prison, you can ask Captain Morgan,"

"I will," Dumas said grimly, "But for today, get out of here, your shift is over,"

CJ and I trudged outside the station house, listening to the voices of Harris and Dumas as they argued. We caught a cab which took us all the way to our crumbling home. I remember I had never asked Dumas about a key as we entered the house. Exhausted, we climbed the stairs to our room. We dropped into the same bed and CJ threw her arm over my chest and hooked one of her legs around mine.

"CJ, I need to talk to you…" I began unsteadily; I needed to tell her something which had been growing on my mind. I enjoyed her very much, but I was still not free of Christine. I wanted to be; I knew CJ was good for me, she understood me and she cared for me, but I was still under the power of Christine's memory. I still could not love CJ…

"What?" She muttered,

"I…I just wanted to warn you, don't expect too much from me in the…the way of a relationship; I am still trying to forget Christine, and I can't…"

"You can't love me," CJ finished, and her voice had a definite sad tone in it, "Don't worry so much Erik," she tried very hard to sound nonchalant, and had I not known her the way that I did I would have been fooled, "I am not the kind of girl who sleeps with a man and then expects him to marry her," As hard as she tried to mask it, I could tell she was hurt,

"I don't mean to…" I began,

"Relax Erik, I don't love your either," with this she rolled away from me, I wanted to move to her and hold her; but I knew that would do more harm than good and that it was a selfish thing to entice her to give me her body if I was going to reject her heart.

I stared up at the darkened ceiling and cursed Christine for having a face which was literally feminine perfection; I cursed her sparkling eyes and perfect skin; and especially I cursed her angel voice. Compared to this vision of beauty, who else could stand a chance? Even though she had left me and shattered my heart; she had not finished the job well enough for a piece of my heart still beat; and it loved only her.


	25. Necessary Nuptials

The next two weeks were not easy. Dumas had checked with Captain Morgan, and our jobs and lives were saved; for the moment. We still faced the hatred of more or less the entire station. Tom, our former guard, and his friend Leo Denton with the black curly hair were the only ones who would ever talk to us. Harris only spoke to us when he absolutely had to, and Dumas more or less ignored us.

None of this really bothered me; the thing that did bother me was the growing awkwardness between me and CJ. Ever since that fateful night, there had been a tension between us which had never existed before, even when we had first been getting to know each other.

I hated that she was angry with me, but I did not know how to fix it. I wished I could just wrap my arms around her and make every thing go away but I could not. I could not change the way I felt in an instant, and I just hoped time would bring back the friendly relationship between us. I tried hard not to think about Christine; however the harder I tried the more I found myself thinking about her.

During the day I did not think about her so much, but at night, when I was alone; for CJ never slept with me again after the night I had warned her about my feelings, it all came back to me. I lived and re lived each detail of my life with Christine; how badly I had desired her, how I had built my entire life, my whole future, around loving her. And then she had left me. My heart broke again each night as I thought about her, in the loving arms of her husband while I lay alone, unable to move beyond her. I had never imagined anything for me beyond Christine; maybe there _was_ nothing for me but the memory of her.

About a week after our eventful first day, CJ began to see Leo Denton. They would spend their lunches together; I would stay in the station house alone while everyone else left. Tom usually tried to get me to come with him, but I always refused. When I sat in the station house alone I would bitterly curse myself; this was where my love for Christine had taken me; it had left me alone and hungry.

CJ went out to dinner with Leo Denton as well; they made a handsome pare; and I suppose I could not blame her for wanting to move on to a normal man. She did not talk about him with me; we did not discuss much which was not work related. I hardly saw her in the house; she had moved out of the room I was in and into a different one.

There were times when I saw her that I just wanted to grab her and pull her to me, to claim her once again, but then my mind would turn back to Christine and something in me would hold me back. I was wretched and I wondered back to the time when Dumas had asked me if I wanted to live or die, and I wondered if I should have just given up then.

It was in the third week of our standoff that CJ broke the silence. She knocked on the closed door of my room. It was quite late and I suspected she had just returned from another date with Leo,

"Come in," I called from the bed,

CJ entered, and in the candle light of my room I could see she was quite upset. She sank down on the bed which had once been hers and stared at the ground,

"What is it?" I asked her; perhaps she and Leo were at odds?

"Erik, I have to tell you something…"

"What?" I could not imagine what she had to tell me,

"I just visited the doctor," She spoke very slowly and heavily, and I stared at her. She raised her bright green eyes to meet mine, "Erik I am pregnant,"

"What!" I breathed, "Well who…who…?" I sputtered

"You're the father,"

By the ringing in my ears and the jolt I felt all through my body I thought that perhaps I had exploded. A moment later I felt my head was spinning,

"You are sure?" I gaped,

"Sure that I am pregnant or sure that you are the father?" CJ asked

"That I am the father,"

"I only slept with Leo once two days ago, and I am much further along than that; _you_ are the father,"

"Are you going to terminate the pregnancy?" I asked,

"I…I can't," CJ said as tears began to fill her eyes, "The doctor told me…since I took so long to see him, because I could not get an appointment right away, and because of this condition I have; after all the…trauma…from my childhood, I was not supposed to be able to get pregnant; if I try to terminate the pregnancy than it could kill me,"

"I can't believe this!" I was angry; not really with CJ but with myself, "I don't want a child!" I was so angry I could not say what I really meant to say; what I meant was I did not want to have a child and risk it sharing my defection. I did not want to curse another being with the life I had been forced to live. However in my heightened emotional state, I could not articulate this,

"You think I do!" CJ screamed, rising from the bed she had been sitting on, "You think this is what I _want_! Do you think it is easy for me to know that I am carrying the baby of a man who…"

"A man who looks like this?" I shouted, standing as well and ripping the mask off of my face,

CJ looked at me disgusted, "No," she said in a quivering voice which was hardly more than a whisper, "A man who only cares about what is between my legs,"

With this she turned and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her. I stood in abject silence for a moment; what had I done? I quietly went to the door and opened it. I went to CJ's room, but she was not there. I heard noise coming from the bathroom, and I listened at the door.

I could hear CJ sobbing and vomiting through the door. Opening it a crack, I stuck my head inside,

"CJ?" I said in a soft voice,

"You know I am in here," She said quietly,

"I…when I said I didn't want a child all I meant was I did not want to risk it looking…like I do,"

"Why?" CJ snorted bitterly, "Would you love it less?"

"No! But…wouldn't you?" I knew this was the wrong thing to say the moment I said it,

CJ stood from her place on the floor beside the crude toilet and walked toward me. Her green eyes were smoldering and she reached up and slapped me hard in the face;

"You think I care about what the child will _look_ like? What kind of a person do you think I am!" she took several deep breaths and tried to calm herself, "The only thing I care about," her voice shook with emotion, "is how I am going to take care of this child after Dumas…" her voice broke, and it was a moment before she spoke again, "I am no good to him now, you realize that? I cannot do the job he wants me to do anymore; he could send be back to prison,"

"He would not do that," I said and I reached out to touch her elbow in a comforting manor but she pulled away as though I was poisoned,

"Don't worry about it Erik," she glared at me, "Go back to daydreaming about _Christine_ or whatever it is you do when you are cutting yourself off from everyone else," And she walked past me and entered her room.

I walked back to my own bed and slumped down on it. Now I had really ruined everything; Christine was gone, CJ hated me, there was going to be a child born who in all likelihood would be just as hideous as I was, and Dumas was going to punish us both for this. I did not sleep at all that night; I sat on the bed staring into the nothingness which surrounded me.

I was seriously thinking about killing myself as morning broke. I had ruined every thing I touched; I should stop myself before I ruined the life of my child as well. I had a gun; Dumas had given us both guns on our second day at the station, I could use it on myself.

CJ opened my door at the very moment I was going to pick up my gun, stopping me from suicide,

"We have to go," She said grimly, and she waited as I walked over to her, then she led the way down the stars. I locked the door behind us; I had finally remembered to ask Dumas about a key and he said he had been intending on giving us one; he just kept forgetting.

"I have to tell Dumas today," CJ said bitterly as we walked, searching for a cab,

"I will tell him with you," I offered,

"You had better," CJ snapped, "I have to tell Leo too," she sighed,

"What are you going to do about him?" I asked as gently as I could,

"I don't know yet Erik!" she yelled and I did not press the subject, "I will have to end it with him, I suppose," she said softly,

"Are you in love with him?" I asked, not knowing what I wanted the answer to be,

"No," CJ said without hesitation, "I am not, but he is a good man; it is a shame I have to give him up,"

We took a cab to the station. As we turned on to the Rue Etrange, there was a backup in traffic; it seemed there had been an accident and they were still trying to sort it out. CJ and I got out of the cab and walked the rest of the way to the station house. We were almost there when Leo Denton came toward us,

"Hello, darling," he said to CJ and he took her hands in his and kissed her cheeks; CJ only lasted a moment before the tears came and she let herself fall into Denton's arms.

"What is wrong?" he asked her gently, and I took this as my cue to leave them for a moment. I walked past them a way, but I stopped when I was still just in earshot of them, pretending to be watching the accident be cleared away.

"Leo," CJ cleared her throat and out of the corner of my eye I saw her break away from him, "I can't see you anymore,"

"What? Why!" Denton sounded shocked, "I thought we _had_ something here, what is wrong?"

"I…," CJ seemed at a loss for words,

"Wait, does this have to do with _him_?" I assumed he meant me,

"Yes," CJ said slowly,

"Well damn it CJ! I told you I did not like you living with him, I told you to come and stay with me; what did he do to you? Are you afraid of him? Because I can make him go away if you want me to, I told you that," I was a bit shocked by this statement,

"I am not _afraid_ of him," CJ began sadly, "But he did do something to me…well, not something I did not want him to do…sort of,"

"Tell me what happened CJ," Denton said gently,

"I am pregnant Leo," there was silence for a good minute and a half,

"And it is…?" Denton's vice sounded heart broken,

"Erik is the father,"

Silence again…then, "There is not way I am the father?"

"No," CJ choked out in a teary voice, "I am so sorry," she said, and then she walked past him; drying her eyes she walked past me and into the station house. I was about to follow her when a hand grabbed my shoulder and whipped me around; I was facing Leo Denton,

I was about to say something; but Leo never gave me the chance; he punched me hard in the stomach;

"Why the hell did you do that to her!" He screamed, I quickly straightened up and swung at his face, connecting with his jaw,

"I didn't plan this!" I yelled, and then Denton was coming at me; I ducked one blow and grabbed him around the waist, throwing him to the ground. Denton was down for only a moment before he sprung up at me, taking his gun out in a flash and hitting me across the face with the gun butt, causing my mask to fall to the ground and Denton had a clear view of my face;

"What kind of a creature are you?" He screamed at me, and I immediately covered my face, giving him the opportunity to slam his knuckles against my jaw,

I stumbled backward and let go of my face; I was enraged now; I went for him and hit his face until he fell to his knees;

"What are you doing!" CJ's voice cut through the angry haze of my mind; I turned to see everyone was staring at us; people from the crowded street and people from the station house alike were watching,

I covered my face again, feeling like a fool as I stooped to pick up my mask and slip it back on my face,

"What happened here?" Dumas had come out to see what everyone was staring at,

I was going to explain when I realized I did not know how. One man from the crowed spoke,

"The man without the mask started it," He said to Dumas,

"Is that true Leo?" Dumas asked as Denton stood again,

"Yes, it is true, and I would do it again," He growled, "He," and he pointed at me; "He ruined everything!"

CJ covered her face with her hand and Dumas looked from Denton to CJ, "Alright, everyone inside,"

We trooped into the station house; everyone pushed past me and would not let me enter until the very last person was already inside.

"Phann, CJ, I want to see you both in my office _now_," Dumas walked back to his office and we followed,

"What is he talking about?" Dumas asked as soon as we shut the door,

CJ was still trying to control herself to keep from crying in front of Dumas but I thought I should wait for her to relax enough so she could tell him herself. Meanwhile, I lifted my hand to my head and discovered I was bleeding, and by the throbbing I felt around my face I was developing a swollen eye. My stomach also hurt like the devil, but I guessed it was nothing compared to what CJ was feeling.

"Did you hear me? Why did Leo just try to kill Phann in the street?" Dumas asked again,

CJ took one deep breath and started to talk, "He was angry because I said I had to stop seeing him,"

"You left him for _Phann_?" Dumas asked, and had I been someone with any self confidence I might have been offended that he thought the idea of CJ preferring me over Denton was ridiculous,

"Not exactly," CJ closed her eye and inhaled, then she opened them again and I could tell the moment of truth was upon us, "I am pregnant, and Erik is the father,"

Dumas looked as though he had been run over by a carriage, then his expression turned to anger,

"What the hell CJ! Do you know why we don't hire woman? It is because they will inevitably leave you to have a baby! This is exactly what Fillips said would happen; but I told him he was wrong about you, I said you were a serious professional who was talented enough to keep and you just proved him right and my wrong! I go out on a limb for the two of you and this is the thanks I get?" His face was red with fury,

"I am sorry," CJ said, and she kept the tears from her eyes,

"Sorry?" Dumas laughed, "You two can't keep your pants on and my career goes to hell along with your lives," he shook his head, "You have to terminate the pregnancy,"

"I can't," CJ whispered,

I blinked blood out of my eyes and wiped my forehead with my hand,

"What do you mean you can't?" Dumas growled,

"It is too late and the doctor is afraid that with all the trauma from my childhood, if he were to try to terminate I could bleed to death," She whispered this explanation, and Dumas shook his head again and considered a few moments,

"Well…I think I know a way to half fix this; CJ, Phann, you two have to get married,"

"What!" CJ and I asked together,

"It will look better to Fillips if CJ leaves to have the baby of her husband, and it would allow CJ to return; she can come back to work if she is assisting her husband,"

"I don't care what Fillips thinks!" CJ shouted, and Dumas glared at her,

"I don't care what you care about; remember who you are here," he lowered his voice, "You are a criminal who should have been executed, as far as you are concerned you should think of me as Jesus and Fillips as God!" he hissed, "We have certainly been merciful, but all that could change," Dumas looked deadly serious, and we said nothing,

"Right," Dumas said to us, "Go down to the Town Hall on your lunch break, then CJ you go home, I can't have you here causing any more fights, and Phann, do something about that cut," by the way he was looking at me my face was covered in blood. Dumas dismissed us and we walked back out to our desk. We were greeted by the glares of each policeman in the station.

"Go to the bathroom, you need to fix your eye," CJ said to me shortly, and I walked off to the bathroom, feeling like a scolded dog. I peered into the small mirror for some time before I washed; I looked awful; my face was turning black and blue and blood glistened all over my forehead.

The door opened behind me and I whipped around, ready to see Denton and all his friends come to finish me off. I did not expect to see CJ. She walked dutifully toward me and wet a towel which was hanging by the sink and began to wash the blood away. I stood motionless,

"This is nice of you," I said to her,

"Well I seem to remember a time when I was shot in the shoulder and a certain someone helped me," CJ murmured as she wiped my forehead; it was the closest we had been physically in some time and I realized how much I had missed it,

"You don't owe me anything; I remember you pulling glass out of my hands," I said as she finished with the exposed side of my face, and then her hand moved to my mask,

"What are you doing?" I snapped and pulled away,

"Some of the blood in on the other side of your face; I want you to look nice for our wedding day," she said sarcastically, and I consented to let her remove the mask and set it by the sink, "You pulled me out of the fire, you know," she said and I guessed we were still playing the I-owe-you-for-saving-my-life game; but I was about to win,

"You pulled me out of the torture chamber,"

CJ laughed mirthlessly, "Yes, I suppose it is your turn to help me; but you can just owe me one,"

I owed her more than 'one,' "I am truly sorry CJ," I said to her sadly,

"Sorry? For what? I made the choice to lie with you, I took the risk, and now I am paying for it," her voice was even; she had cried all the tears she could for the moment,

CJ lowered her hand from my face and stepped back; I put my mask back on, "I guess we have to go back out and face the wolves," I said glumly as I thought about all the hostile policemen in the next room,

"We can fight them off," CJ laughed as we exited the bathroom; it was good to hear her laugh again, and to hear her talk about 'we' and mean me and her.

At two o'clock we went to the Town Hall for a marriage license. Two people who were already there were used as witnesses, and we were married with in the hour. It felt very odd; there was no ceremony, no vows, I did not even have a ring anymore which I could have given to her. As we signed our names and as Candice Joselyn Bradshaw became Candice Joselyn Phann, I realized I did not even have a real last name to give her.

I did not feel any different as I walked out of the Town Hall a married man. CJ was walking beside me in silence and I thought what strange newlyweds we made; here in Paris, the city of love, we had just been married and we were not even holding one another's hands, and there had certainly been no kissing of the bride.

We road back to the station house in awkward silence; CJ stared out the window; a resigned look on her face. When we reached the station house I made to get out but CJ did not move,

"Aren't you coming?" I asked her,

"You heard Dumas, I have to go home, remember?"

"Oh…yes, I will see you later than," I said with a sigh,

"Don't let the men in there beat you up too badly," CJ teased me dryly,

I gave her a small smile, "Don't do too much in your weakened condition," I shot back,

CJ narrowed her eyes in an expression which was now familiar to me; mock anger, "Go to hell," CJ said wryly

"I'm already there," She was still half smiling at me as the cab pulled away; and I realized we were acting toward each other the way we had acted when we had first met, all this time and history together and we were back at the beginning; all because I was holding on to the love of a woman who had left me, and the false hope that she would return.

I walked back into the police station; past all the glaring policemen, and sat down at my desk. I was married, I was going to be a father; but I had never felt more alone.


	26. Christopher Johnson Eriksson

_Note: I am re posting this chapter because last time I forgot to thank PhemalePhantom for all the awesome reviews! Keep them coming! Ok, back to story…._

By the time I returned to the house, CJ was already in her room with the door closed. I went to my own room and lay down on the bed.

Most couples spent their first night of marriage making passionate love; we were not even in the same room. Candice Joselyn Phann was now alone, my wife, and pregnant with my child. What she deserved was a husband who would care for her, CJ was an independent minded woman who certainly knew how to look after herself; but for once in her life she deserved to have someone look out for her.

I could try to do that; to keep her safe and healthy. I could not love her as she deserved, nor could I be the man who she could fall in love with. She might have cared for my once; even loved me, but I had told her I could not return her affection and she had wisely let me go. Now she was forced back to my side.

Deep in my heart I believed that I would fail her; I would fail our child. We would run out of money and our child would starve. The baby would be born with my disfiguration and CJ would leave it with me one night and I would never see her again. I would lose her in the end and there was nothing I could do about it. She had said she would love the child, even if it did look like me but I knew; when she saw the child, and found a gift from the devil instead of an angel, she would leave us.

CJ would reject myself and the baby; just as my mother had rejected me, and just as Christine had rejected me. I turned and let my eyes close. If I had not been so exhausted I never would have fallen asleep; but I had had to walk a lot that day trying to find a witness the police were looking for so I dropped into a fitful sleep.

Late in the night; I woke to hear the noise of someone walking around in the house. I thought I must have been dreaming; but I had a strange feeling so I eventually got up and walked out of my room. I saw a light coming from the bathroom and I raced toward it, pulling the door open.

I looked inside and to my horror CJ lay slumped on the floor; eyes closed. I rushed to her side, not sure if she was dead she lay so still.

"CJ?" I shook her shoulder and to my relief her eyes opened.

"Where am I?" she whispered sleepily,

"On your way back to your room, go to sleep," I said softly, and I scooped her up in my arms and carried her back to her bed; laying her down gently and pulling the one thin sheet of the bed up to her chin.

I suspected she had been sick and then so tired she had fallen asleep in the bathroom. I went back and blew out the candle and was on my way to my room when I changed my mind. I went into CJ's room and lay on the bed next to hers. If she needed anything else I would be right there.

She did not need anything else that night, and she did not wake when I left in the morning for the station. I was about to take a cab to the police station when I realized that was money better spent elsewhere. Besides, I liked walking better. I had not been so active in years; there was only so much one could do under an opera house. Now that I was getting used to physical activity I was beginning to enjoy it. It certainly was good for my physic; I had noticed during my brief but wonderful time spent with CJ that my stomach was flat, my arms seemed bigger, and my legs were stronger.

As I walked I thought about how much I loathed working at the police station. I was used to no one talking to me and everyone hating me; but it was worse to be subordinate to them. I did their paperwork, I was assigned to the jobs they would not be caught dead doing because they were too humiliating. I almost missed working as an assassin; at least then I had been trusted to do my job, and it was less mundane, and I had been with CJ.

Just as I had expected, when I arrived at the station I was greeted my cold indifference of hot anger; in either case I was not spoken to. If it was possible, I believed that most of them hated me more. In face, now I was sure everyone loathed my presence; Tom walked past my desk with out saying a word; he at least usually said 'good morning,' but now that I had ruined things between his friend and CJ, I was alone…again.

Most of my day I spent filling reports and various other things which were beneath me. Around noon, the station was very busy and my desk was the only one at which there was no complaint being lodged. So, when a young couple came into the station house they were forced to come over to me; something most avoided if it was possible.

There was only one chair in front of my desk and the young woman; a frightened looking blond with bright blue eyes, sat down while her husband; a pompous looking creature brown hair, stood behind her.

"How can I help you?" I and the tone of my voice indicated I wanted nothing more than to _not_ help them,

A bit taken aback by my indifferent manner, it took the man a moment to respond, but he finally did, in a very superior tone, "We need to report a robbery,"

I pulled a blank form from the stack of papers on my desk and took up my quill, "What is your name?" I asked mechanically,

"Louis Rousseau," he said proudly,

"Related to the philosopher?" I asked before I could stop myself

"What philosopher?" He asked sharply, and I rolled my eyes,

"Apparently not," I muttered and I wrote his name on the form, "And what is your address?"

"Why?" the man asked and I stared at him a moment,

"Why? So I know where the robbery took place," I said exasperatedly,

"It did not take place in our home," Rousseau said huffily,

"Well than where _did_ it take place?" I asked, beginning to lose my patience,

"Just outside in one of the cafes," That was odd, I thought,

"And what was stolen?"

"My pocket watch," Rousseau said outraged that something so tragic could happen to him,

I sat back in my chair and stared at him with narrowed eyes; "You came here to report a pickpocket?" it was the most ridiculous act because unless you caught the pickpocket in the act, or yelled after them as they ran away, it was almost impossible to find them once again,

"Yes! That watch meant a lot to me! It was my grandfathers! And I demand you do something about it!"

I sighed, "Did you see who ever you think stole it?" If I could get a description than it would be something to go on, or at least it would appear that I cared and maybe make them go away,

"No, it was the strangest thing," Rousseau muttered, "We did not see anyone, I know I had it when I sat down, and then at the end of our meal I took my wallet out of my pocket and paid, then when we walked away it was gone!"

I stopped writing and had a sudden idea, "You took your wallet out of your _pocket_?" I repeated,

"Yes,"

"Alright, follow me," I led them out of the station, "Where did you eat?" I asked and Rousseau pointed to one of the many cafes and we walked over to it, "and what table did you sit at?"

Rousseau pointed and I saw the currently unoccupied table and looked under it; sure enough there was the pocket watch. I grabbed it and handed it back to a stunned looking Rousseau,

"It must have fallen out when you took out your wallet," I said coldly, "But thank you for this false report, it was fun," and without looking at them again I walked back to the station house. Sad too say, this was the most excitement I had all day.

I walked home much later; it was July and the evening was warm and my pace was slow. I wondered what CJ was doing, and what she had been doing all day. She would have thought the pickpocket people were funny; I could tell her about them.

However when I returned I found CJ asleep in her room; disappointed, I went back to my own room. Without CJ to talk to; I had nothing to do but brood. It was not really a conscious decision to that I thought about what I thought about; it was just that the moment I sat down all these images popped into my head; Christine leaving me, her arm around Raoul, CJ glaring at me, Denton shrieking at me, my mother…

It was all to much and I swiftly rose from my bed and walked out of my room, shutting the door behind me as though I thought this would keep those sad thoughts from following me. I walked aimlessly around the house; remembering each event.

I walked down to the basement and thought about the first time I had ever seen CJ when she had been shoved into the room. The first time I had ever touched her when I had untied her hands.

My first impression of her had been that she was an offensive, ugly creature. I sank down on my old bed; that had not been true about CJ. She was not the kind of woman who possessed a beauty like Christine's, but she was alluring, and she was intriguing. I also had the distinct feeling that if CJ ever met Christine, she would waste no time in breaking her elegant little neck.

I missed her; why I had ruined everything I did not understand. I trudged back to my room and fell into my bed. Sleep came…eventually.

CJ and I spent the next three weeks with out every really seeing each other. I would leave early and come home late; not on purpose, I was just always stuck with the worst hours. Every day I came home expecting to see some sign of something CJ had done that day, or some sign of her. However the house always looked exactly the same, and I always opened her door to see her sleeping; her back to me so I did not even know if she was showing yet. Once or twice I heard CJ being sick in the bathroom; once I held her hair back while she vomited, but she did not say a word to me.

I thought it was going to be a day just like any other when I walked home one evening; I walked up to CJ's door and expected to see her sleeping. However when I opened the door, I saw the two beds had been shoved into the middle of the room and CJ was standing at the wall. The walls were clean and covered in a new coat of fresh paint.

"What…" I gaped at the clean wall, gleaming white in the candle light,

"What do you think? This white is just a base coat," CJ stepped back from the wall, paint brush in hand,

"How did you get all of this?" I asked amazed as I walked into the room and eyed two more buckets of paint and several brushes,

CJ smiled triumphantly; I had not seen her smile in some time, "Did you read the paper this morning?" she asked and jerked her head in the direction of one of the beds on which I saw a copy of the paper was lying,

I picked it up and stared at the articles on the page it was open to; something about a new road being built, bad farming conditions in the country side, and then I saw a story in the paper. There were often stories submitted by authors which showed up in installments every week or so. This story appeared to be about the escapades of a pirate, and it was written by a Christopher Johnson Eriksson,

"Did you write this?" I asked her,

"Yes," She turned and smiled at me, "My father used to tell me all these stories about what he used to do when he was a pirate, and all that combined with all the stuff I have done; I always thought it would make a good story. I have been writing it ever since the day Dumas sent me home; I browed the parchment and ink you brought up from the opera house, hope you don't mind,"

"Not at all," I said, still stunned,

"Anyway I sold the story to the paper; that is how I got the money for the paint; I thought…" she paused and looked around the room, "I thought this could be the baby's room,"

"I think that would be a good idea,"

"Good! Than you take this brush," she handed the brush to me, "And finish, because I am sitting down,"

I took up the task of painting gratefully, glad to be doing something other than moping around the house. CJ was sitting on the bed watching me for some time before she spoke,

"I used some of your life in the story too; I hope you don't mind,"

"Not at all,"

"The main character was abused in his childhood so he runs away and becomes a pirate,"

"Why didn't _I_ think of doing that?" I said sarcastically, and CJ let out a small laugh, "Did you use a crazed mother?"

"Drunk father,"

"I guess that works too,"

I spent the next hour painting, and I finished the wall. It was a shame I had to go to sleep; I had missed being around CJ very much and it was nice to talk to her again,

"I suppose I should turn in," I said as I set down the brush,

"Alright, I will be there in a minute," CJ said and I started,

"Be where…?" I asked, confused,

"I can't sleep in here; the wet paint smells,"

I felt my heart leap; she was coming back to my room.


	27. To be seen

For the next month; the relationship between me and CJ improved. She still kept her distance from me most of the time, but at least we were speaking every day. CJ continued to get payments from the newspaper and that, along with my meager salary from the police station, paid for more paint for the house; CJ had decided to renovate the whole dismal dusty dwelling, blankets for the approaching fall and winter, food, and other necessities.

I had sworn I was not going to do it, but then I realized it was necessary. One day after I left the station, I 'barrowed' a police cab and went back to the opera house. Going back down the tunnel was the most bazaar, eerie experience I had ever gone through.

The tunnel had an odd feeling to it; unfamiliar and menacing and I knew why. This was no longer my domain; I no longer ruled the vast caverns. Now I was an intruder, an outside interloper who did not belong under the cold, damp walls.

I reached the house by the lake. The water was a still and threatening sight; I felt all around me a secrete presence urging me to leave. As the boat cut through the water and the sound of the lap of the oar disrupted the silence it sent a chill up my spine.

The house was completely dark and quite; I wondered if it had always been this still under the opera. I entered through the front door; there was no reason not to this time. I shuttered as I remembered bursting in through my secret bedroom door and then being tricked into entering the torture chamber,

I wanted to get this trip over with as soon as I could. I walked quickly through the house toward the room where I kept the crib; we were going to need one and as we were strapped for money this was the best solution. I reached the crib and found the baby doll was lying inside it.

CJ had hated that I had kept this; I picked it up and stared at it. As I looked at it I wondered why I had kept it so long. It was the epitome of my rejection by my mother and my desire to be accepted; she had despised the sight of me so much and I had wanted her love so much I would have gone to any length to please her.

Now I had the feeling it was going to happen all over again; when CJ had this baby, she would see its hideous face and leave us both. Angry I heaved the doll against the wall, chipping its wooden head.

Hurriedly I carried the crib out to the boat. I went back into the house and took another look around. I decided it would be prudent to bring back all the clothes I had in the house; I even had some dresses I had had for Christine. I brought pillows from the bed, kitchen wear, and lights, basically anything I could carry.

As I was making one last inspection of the house I saw a crumpled pile of clothes; the ones Dumas had given us on our first day which we had changed out of. Then I remembered; the ring in the pocket.

I grabbed my pair of trousers and checked the pocket; it was still there. I took it out; it looked as beautiful as ever; one sparkling perfect diamond surrounded by garnets. I remembered my plan to bring back Christine and give her this ring. However now that truly could not happen; now I was married, and I wanted to give the ring to my wife.

It was very difficult to get everything back up the tunnel. The only way I managed to carry it all was by lining the crib with blankets, then piling everything else into it. I had to stop several times to rest before I made it back up to the cab. It was quiet late before I reached the house.

To my surprise, CJ was waiting for me in the kitchen,

"Oh…," She said when she saw all I was carrying, and she raised her eyebrows, "That is much more than a crib…"

"I thought we could use some other things," I set down the crib in the kitchen,

"Obviously," She walked over to inspect what I had brought, "Is there a whole other house in there?"

"Don't I wish," I grumbled, "Well, I have to take the cab back now…" I sighed and wished very much I could just go to sleep,

"I will come with you," CJ said, and I was surprised,

"Do you think that is a good idea?" I asked her skeptically,

"No, I think it is a terrible idea, that is why I suggested it; I was forgetting about the fact that should a pregnant woman step outside, she will burst into flames,"

"Alright then,"

The ride back to the station house was actually quite pleasant; almost romantic, the balmy night air, bright stars, soft gas lamps. CJ sat silently beside me; bright eyes turned upward. I did not say anything either; if I did not say anything I could not ruin anything.

We left the cab in front of the police station; tying the horse to the post. We began to walk back; there were few people out at this hour, and no cabs to be found.

"Nice night," CJ said finally, breaking our silence

"It is," I dug my hands into my pockets and my fingers closed on the ring; I was just wondering how I should give it to her when we walked into the misty light of a gas lamp and she grabbed my arm,

"Look!" and she pointed up at the moon; there had been some clouds covering it but now the bright circle in the sky could be seen un obscured; it was an astonishing orange color which was enough to make even an old, sarcastic cynic like me stare at the sight,

"You know," CJ said, still looking up at the moon, "Sailors used to say that if the sun was red at sunset the weather would be good the next day, but if it rose red in the morning the weather would be bad,"

"What if the sun sets red at night then raises red the next morning?" I asked before I could stop myself,

CJ laughed, "I think it meant sea monsters were going to commandeer the boat,"

"That sounds right," and then I realized this was right; this was the right moment, while CJ was still looking up at the moon,

I took the ring out of my pocket but kept it concealed in my hand, "Close your eyes,"

"Not a chance," CJ laughed, pulling her gaze away from the sky,

"Please,"

"Why?" She asked me skeptically,

"Please," I said again and she sighed and let her eyelids fall shut; she looked quite beautiful standing in the gaslight with her eyes lightly closed, her face drawn in an expression of mild irritation, and a slight bulge in her stomach where our child was growing;

I lightly grasped her hand and brought it up to me, "What are you doing?" she asked; half laughing and half irritated; I just slid the ring on her finger,

"There, now you can open your eyes," She did so and I saw the green lights fall on the sparkling ring on her finger,

"Oh…my God," She whispered, "Where did you get this?" she asked me in amazement,

"That house we broke into to return the stole heirlooms, I took it,"

"Why?" she breathed,

I thought that telling her I had taken it for Christine was a bad idea, so I lied, "I don't know, I just did,"

"Erik…it's beautiful," her face was glowing as she looked at it, then it darkened slightly, "But I can't keep it, we should sell it,"

"Sell it?" I snorted, "To who? The only people who could afford to give us what it is worth are to rich anyway to want to buy it; besides if someone did and then the original owner saw it…we would be in trouble,"

"Erik, thank you," She said, smiling up at me, and then she moved close, close enough for me to touch her, and she leaned up and pressed her lips gently to mine. I had not kissed CJ in months, and it was heavenly. I circled my arms around her and our kiss deepened.

She pulled away suddenly, "Thank you very much Erik,"

We walked all the way back to the house; there were no cabs to be found. We walked in silence, not awkward, just tired. We trudged up to our room and fell gratefully into our beds. I knew there was still an unspoken problem between us; but we were getting by.

The next morning I was greeted by a red rising sun; bad weather ahead, I thought with a grim laugh. There was nothing I wanted more than to lay in bed all day, but it was not meant to be. As I sat up and pulled on my shoes, CJ rose in a sleepy state,

"Is it morning?" She yawned,

"Yes, and there is a red sun,"

CJ laughed, "How…_odd_,"

"Alright, I have to go," I said standing,

"Wait, wait, I want you to see something," She rolled off her bed and pulled me into the room which had been declared the babies room, and my eyes widened;

CJ had finished the room; it was a deep blue with a white pattern of wispy clouds and bright points which were shinning stars; it looked like the evening sky,

"This looks amazing," I said; I had not know she was so talented,

"I used to love to paint," She said guilelessly,

I wished I could have just stayed there; but I had to go. Leaving to go to the station house had never seemed like such a bleak prospect. Walking down the rows of desks at the police station to my own I might as well have been a ghost for all the attention I was given; but at least I knew that when I went home CJ would see me.


	28. The answer and the cure

Another two months passed with out incident; CJ continued to work on making the house livable. The story she had submitted to the paper was turning out to be quite popular and she was getting more money from it than she had expected.

The change she was working in the house was unbelievable; each room was being painted, except the room in which the two criminals had killed themselves. We never went in there and CJ was sure the room was haunted.

At the police station, I was slowly being accepted into the group. Nobody went out of their way to talk to me but they stopped avoiding me like the plague.

I was reading the latest installment of CJ's story in the paper; I got quite a private laugh at the fact that I was the only person who knew who the true author was and everyone at the station house wondered who this Eriksson fellow was. I was just finishing when Leo Denton walked over to me,

I waited for him to speak, and when he did I was surprised at what he said,

"Phann?"

"Yes?"

"I…I have been meaning to ask you, how is CJ doing?"

I raised my eyebrows, "She is fine," I said slowly,

"I...," he looked very awkward, "I have been wanting to go and see her,"

I blinked, "You want to…see her?" I asked suspiciously

"To say hello, and to apologize for the scene I made the day she left,"

I snorted; he wanted to apologize to her when I had been the one with the black eye,

"I will only take a minute," he said earnestly,

"I will ask her if she wants to see you and then tell you what she said," I disliked this man very much, and I hoped CJ would not want to see him. She had said she was not in love with him; but looking back on the time she had spent with him she had seemed happy to me; maybe she would want to see him.

I went back to my business but Denton's request ate away at my mind; I continually looked up to see what he was doing. However I could not keep to close an eye on him because I suddenly had a barrage of complaining people sent to my desk. When I was finally through, I could not find Denton in the station house.

"Tom?" I went over to our former guard who was the friendliest with me, "Were did Denton go? I wanted to ask him something,"

"Oh…" Tom looked up at me from a form he was filing, "He took an early lunch or something,"

"I will be back," I said hurriedly and I rushed out of the station,

"Phann? Phann!" Tom called after me but I did not listen to him; I knew there was a good chance Denton was taking an early lunch; but I wanted to be sure. I practically threw myself in front of a cab and told the driver to hurry as I jumped in.

Once I was at the house I ran to the front door and opened it; and immediately I heard voices coming from the upstairs and I quietly snuck toward them; listening,

"It is good to see you again CJ, I have missed you," Denton said, and I cringed at his sincerity,

"I missed you two," CJ said lightly, and I felt my stomach twist,

"I think you know why I came here, I meant to come some time ago, but I have been making arrangements," Denton spoke excitedly

"What kind of arrangements?" CJ asked, sounding confused,

"I know why you married him CJ; Dumas told me all about it, you _had_ to marry him, but I can fix it; I _have_ fixed it!" he sounded blissfully happy, "I have contacted my brother in England, we can go there, we can get married and start over, no one hast to know the child is not mine; I will love it like it is; we can leave now; Phann will never find us!"

I wanted to vomit; it was going to happen now, CJ was going to leave now. I felt the urge to run up the stairs and throw her into our room and keep her there; I wanted her to stay, but as much as I wanted that another side of me recognized the situation; a better suitor had come along and I would have to step aside,

"I can't leave Leo," CJ said sadly,

"Yes you can CJ," Denton said firmly, "You don't have to be afraid of him anymore, I will protect you,"

"You think I am _afraid_ of him?" the change in her tone of voice was astounding; a moment before she had sounded sad, now she spoke in a cold, almost bitter tone,

"Well, he is a bit of a…" Denton began and I could tell he was taken aback by her sudden change in mood,

"Bit of a what? Freak? Monster? May I remind you that he was not the one who started a fight in the streets when I said I was pregnant!" She was yelling now,

"Well…I was shocked! CJ, I know you are angry with me, but I can help you, I can take you away from all of this! I can take you away from him!" He sounded so pleading; I had not realized how badly he had fallen for CJ, and I knew CJ would say she would go; I had seen how this story was going to play out,

Suddenly I was back on the roof of the opera, watching as Raoul professed his love to my Christine and she agreed to become his fiancé, now CJ would do the same and run off with Denton. I closed my eyes, waiting for the blow to fall,

"I don't want to be away from him," CJ said quietly and I barely heard her,

"What?" Denton sounded dumbfounded,

"I don't want to be away from him!" CJ yelled this time and I was sure everybody in Paris heard her, "He is my _husband_! And the father of my _child_!"

"CJ, you are a forward thinking woman," Denton said, sounding upset, "You don't have to be bound to a man you don't love this way,"

"I do love him!" She shouted at the top of her lungs and I had to sit down, there were no chairs in the entryway so I just sat on the floor,

There was a silence upstairs for some time, "You can't, CJ," Denton said finally, "You can't love him,"

"The hell I can't!" she cried, "I have tried not to love him; I tried to move on but I can't! you are right; I am a forward thinking woman, if I did not love him with all my heart and if I could even imagine a life away from him I would follow you anywhere, but I can't!"

"CJ," Denton said gently, "I don't know how he got this hold over you; but you need to let it go, he is not a good enough man for you,"

"Don't you ever, ever say that to me again Leo," Her voice shook with rage, "You don't know him, you don't know what we have been through together; and you know what else _Leo_," she lowered her voice to an icy pitch, "As far as being a _man_ is concerned; he was much better than you,"

"Oh CJ," Denton sounded truly hurt,

"Don't 'oh CJ' me," she snapped, "You come into my house and tell me my husband is not good enough, and you expect me to be civil?" Denton said nothing,

"I think you should leave," CJ said angrily, and before I could move they appeared at the head of the stairs. They saw me immediately; Denton looked down at the ground as he walked past me and left the house. CJ was staring at me; her eyes over bright,

"How long have you been standing there?" She asked me, her voice was still angry,

"The whole time," I said; still dazed by what I had heard,

"Well, I guess you know how pathetic I am now," CJ snorted angrily,

"I don't think you are pathetic," I said softly,

"I do, I am in love, hopelessly in love, with a man who can't love me back!"

"CJ I…"

"I know, Erik, you are still trying to get over Christine, and the rest of your tortured past, and I respect that; but you have had long enough!" she shouted, "I need you know; I need more of you than this pretty ring and your old clothes!"

"I have been trying to be better for you CJ," I said, becoming angry myself, "None of this is easy for me; everyone I have ever loved has left me the moment they found out who I really was and what I really looked like, my heart was broken when I met you CJ; my soul was gone!" I was letting myself get carried away; I did not even know what was making my say what I was saying,

"Well I am sorry for you; because you are the only one here with a broken heart! Who the hell do you think I am Erik? I know exactly who you are and I love you! I am not going anywhere, and I have heard enough about your face; about your appearance, the truth is I felt more with your kiss than when Leo was making love to me!"

I stared up at her as she took deep breaths, "Do you see me, Erik?" she said sadly, "Do you see that we are going to have a child? When are you going to stop wallowing in your past?" She suddenly turned and ran into our room and slammed the door.

Stunned, I remembered I was supposed to be at work and I could not risk getting fired. My mind was not on my work the rest of that day; all I did was think about what CJ had said to me.

She had been right; as much as I hated to admit it I would still think about Christine. I would still become depressed when I thought about my life; unless I was thinking about CJ, the one good thing I had ever had and I had ruined it because I had wasted time while I let the past hold me back.

That night I thought about sleeping in a different room, but as I walked in CJ appeared on the stairs;

"Erik…I am so sorry," she said to me and I stared at her, "I…it's the pregnancy, it is making me act crazy, you have been wonderful…I knew from the beginning this was not going to be easy,"

I shook my head; I did not deserve her forgiveness for not being able to love her. I did stay in our room, but I slept little. The next day was a haze for me; all of my actions were done without thinking and I hardly noticed when it was my lunch break and I wondered down to the street.

All I was thinking about was the torn feeling in my heart. CJ had a hold on my heart, but so much of it had already been taken away by Christine; there was little left for CJ to grasp at.

I was just thinking about this when I saw her; I saw Christine. Not in my minds eye as I had for some time but right there in front of me. She was sitting with a group of women at one of the more fashionable cafes on the street. She looked exactly like I had remember her; her beautiful brown hair pulled back from her perfect face, her dress the height of Paris fashion; and by the bulge in her stomach the she was with child as well.

There were several moments when I just stared at her; and then I shook my head. The answer and the cure had both been Christine; though she looked as beautiful as ever she lacked everything CJ had. As I watched her smile and laugh along with the other women she was dinning with I felt as though I was watching a living painting; beautiful, but not real.

Her eyes did not shine the way CJ's did, and when I heard her speak; the voice I had once found so heavenly to listen to now sounded weak; she lacked CJ's confidence. As she struggled to cut a piece of food on her plate I realized she lacked CJ's strength; and I knew she lacked her creativity as well. I knew then what I had to do and I turned and ran.

I ran as fast as I could back to my home; I felt as though a cab could not get me there fast enough. I had been an idiot; I had built Christine up in my mind and I had forgotten her flaws. Panting I reached the front door and tore it open,

"CJ!" I called, "CJ!" I ran up to our room and found her sitting on the side of the bed facing me,

"Erik," she said surprised, "what are you doing here?"

I did not say anything; I was too out of breath and I did not know what to say anyway. I dropped down on my knees in front of her; I took her face in my hands and I pressed my lips to hers as passionately as I could,

As our kiss deepened, she spread her legs and I moved as close to her as I could, pressing lightly against her expanding stomach, and I felt her wrap her arms around my neck,

"CJ," I broke away from her and looked into her sad eyes, "I love you,"

She began to cry, but she also smiled slightly and I kissed her again; this time she held me tighter,

"I am sorry CJ, I will make it up to you I promise," I said standing, "I have to go, I will come home as soon as I can," she was still crying and smiling when I left.

It seemed as though it took forever before I was back at my house; but at last I found myself in our bedroom; I began to speak but CJ, who was already lying down, motioned for me to be silent. She threw back her covers; a blanket had been added to the thin sheet, and patted the bed beside her.

For the first time I lay down beside my wife and held her throughout the night.


	29. I am yours

_Note: I really love reading all the reviews and hearing all the feedback so please keep it up! There was a question as to if this was the end of the story; no, I am close to done but I still have one twist up my sleeve...hhehehe _

I woke up late the next morning but I didn't care. Dumas and the rest of the station could go to hell for all I was concerned; CJ was still asleep and I did not want to wake her up. However, when she did wake up, she did not share this point of view,

"Erik!" she exclaimed with still a hint of sleep in her voice, "You have to go!" she tried to get out of the bed but I had wrapped my arm around her just below her breasts so as not to hurt her stomach, and I was not letting go,

"Erik, you are going to be late,"

"I am already late," I said, and I did not release my grip on her; she stopped struggling to stand and gave up, allowing her body to relax against mine,

She sighed, "Erik?"

"Yes?" and I moved my other arm and pushed her hair away from the back of her neck and shoulder and pressed my lips to her bare skin; causing her to sigh again and press herself harder against me,

"Erik, I want to know, what made you run back here yesterday?"

"I needed to tell you that I love you," I said between the light kisses I was placing up and down her neck,

"But why then? What made you realize it?"

I sighed and lifted my lips from her, "I…I saw Christine again," I felt her body tense against mine, "And I knew that all the things I had believed I loved in her were…not really there, and she is nothing compared to you, CJ,"

"You better say that," she muttered,

"It's true!" I rolled her onto her back gently so I could look into her eyes, "I want you to know that I am being sincere," She stared up at me; blinking her bright green eyes slowly,

"Her eyes don't shine like yours do," I said, and a strange expression came over her face; and then she began to laugh, her whole body shook as she giggled,

"I am trying to be charming here," I said angrily, but I was beginning to smile as well,

"I am sorry," CJ tried to curb her laughter, "I am going to stop; there," She bit her lip to stop herself,

"She can't compare to you; she's not as strong, she doesn't have your laugh or your intelligence, she doesn't have your beauty either," CJ had stopped laughing now and she reached up and stroked my face; I lowered my lips to her and kissed her gently,

When we broke apart I rested my head on her chest and she stroked the back of my head, "Do you want to know when I realized I was in love with you?"

I raised my head a bit, "When?" I asked,

"Its silly, you can't laugh,"

"You laughed at me,"

"Fine, you can laugh if you want," She took a deep breath and I felt her chest rise beneath my head, "It was when I said, "they didn't unite you either?" and you said, "no they did, I just tied myself back up for fun,"

"CJ," I stared at her open mouthed, "That was the moment we met!"

"I know, the moment you said that and I saw you, I fell in love with you,"

"_Why_?" I was amazed,

"I thought you were humorous, I thought you were handsome and troubled, and I loved you," she sighed, "I though I was just being foolish, so I tried not to show any affection; but then you would do something…like pull a bullet out of my shoulder, and I couldn't help it! and then when you kissed me after the torture chamber I just thought…I thought you loved me,"

"CJ," I whispered, and I raised my eyes to hers, cupping her face in my hand; she turned her head and kissed my palm; I could not believe what she was saying,

"When you told me you still could not…I wanted to get away from you; I did not think there was any way you would ever love me and I thought I was becoming dangerously close to being pathetically in love with a man who would never care for me; I needed to move on quickly if there was going to be any chance of me keeping my heart, but it was no use,"

She reached up and stroked the back on my hand, "Leo was a sweet man but…I missed you; then when I found out about the baby, I was ready to give up. I had tried to break away from you but fate did not seem to want to let me. I was worried about getting to hurt, that was why I stayed in the other room…,"

"CJ, I had no idea," I breathed,

"I know, I never mentioned anything about it, until Leo came back; I guess I just couldn't take it anymore,"

"CJ, I am so sorry," I whispered,

"Don't be, if you honestly love me than it is all over now; nothing else matters, we have wasted enough time,"

I kissed her, gently parting her lips; I could feel her shift beneath me and wrap her arms around me; pulling me down on her. I was afraid of hurting the baby and I pulled back,

CJ noticed the motion and she released me; "I guess you have to go," she said softly, and she was right; I was very late.

"I will see you again as soon as I can," I said, standing and pulling on my shoes and changing my shirt,

"Do you have to do that right in front of me?" CJ asked from the bed as I buttoned up my other shirt,

"Do what?"

"Take off your shirt! It's not fare, now I want you to stay even more,"

"I will try to come home soon," I walked over and kissed her good bye, but she insisted on seeing me to the door and kissing me again; when I walked out of the house and down the road, I knew she was still watching me.

After this night and following morning, we became what I believe anyone else would have viewed as sickeningly in love; CJ would come down to the police station around lunch sometimes. I would see her at the door and go out to meet her. We did not want to meet in the station for fear the Dumas would get angry if she came inside.

However, soon everyone in the station caught on to what was happening anyway; and it seemed there was something about a couple that were going to have a baby that generated a kind feeling in the hearts of others because the men at the police station became much kinder toward me and CJ. Some of them, who had kids of their own, brought in things they had used with their children for me to bring to CJ.

The first time this happened I was quite overwhelmed; an old man named Arthur Fleche who had been in the French army years ago and then joined the police force; had said little to me until the day he brought me a chest of old clothes his wife had kept from their children, and he told me I was free to keep the chest as well. After this, other parents in the station began to do the same.

I was also allowed to do more than just sit at a desk; there was a robbery at a ladies boutique, arson at a bakery, and murder at an apartment house. Where I proved the most helpful was in the area of interrogation. There were men brought in who were dirty, crooked, soulless criminals and the honest, hardworking men of the police station often failed to break them. I however, had been one of these soulless criminals for some time and I knew exactly how their minds worked. I usually got them to confess in under an hour.

I also got visits from my old friend Nadir, who had found me through his connections with the police. He came to the house in late November, and by his face he was amazed at what had been done to the place; CJ had turned it into a real home. Every room was brightly painted; all the cobwebs were gone, bright curtains hung on the windows, the furniture had been reworked and repainted; all from the money CJ had gotten from her story; which was going to be turned into a book, and the also the payments on her next story, a continuation of the first.

Fall turned slowly to winter. One night I woke up from a nightmare about Persia; these dreams seemed destined to follow me throughout life. I was shaking all over and CJ woke up as my arm around her quivered,

"What is wrong darling?" She asked me softly as I sat up,

"Nothing, just a dream," I said, and then I looked out the window, "CJ," my voice lightened considerable, "I think it is snowing out,"

It was the first snow of the season, and we when to the window to watch the white flakes fall past the window pain. Soon however it was too cold to go on standing there, and we went again to the warm bed. CJ nestled against me, trying to warm herself and I held her close.

I knew full well what CJ was capable of; I knew that if those green eyes darkened her enemies had better run because she had no reservations about killing anyone who threatened her. However, to me she was my docile, loving wife who I wanted to protect and please above all else.

It was this urge to please her which caused me to save a bit out of each pay check to buy CJ a Christmas present from the boutique I had seen when it had been robbed and I had been sent to investigate. As I had been successful at finding the culprit and returning the stolen merchandise, the owner had gladly agreed to give me what I wanted at a lower price.

I ordered her a dress; one beautiful dress. I knew she would tell me I had wasted my money and she had no real use for it, but I wanted her to have it anyway. I also got her a locket; a silver locket with a sliver chain and the letter 'C' embossed on it.

It was a snowy day; Christmas eve, when I went to the boutique on my lunch hour to go and pick up my order. Tom came with me, in hopes of finding a present for the girl he was currently seeing.

"Hello Detectives!" The owner of the boutique yelled to us as we walked in; he was a friendly man and I think he knew the names of everyone who entered his store, "I have the dress, and the locket was just finished yesterday; wait right there, I will go in the back and fetch them for you!"

I nodded and waited by the counter. I looked around the shop; it was fairly large and fashionable; there were quite a few women fingering the bolts of fine cloth standing next to husbands who looked like they were in hell itself.

I scanned everyone in the shop; I had developed a habit of taking in everyone in a room and searching them for anything which might indicate wrong doing, however nothing seemed out of place,

Then I spotted someone I defiantly did not want to see. My heart turned cold as I saw the familiar brown hair, and Christine turned around to face me. Our eyes met immediately; I could not help but stare at her; seeing her again had never been something I desired after that one day at the café and it occurred to me how dangerous this situation could become. If she told that boy she was married to and he reported it...

Christine stood for a moment, then she walked over to me, she seemed as though she was in a trance,

"What are you doing here?" she asked distressed,

"I was just…" I began but she cut in,

"Were you following me? Have you been following me? Watching me?" she was growing more upset and the other people in the store were starting to watch,

"No, of course not," I said but she interrupted me again,

"How is this possible?" She had turned pale and I thought she was going to faint, "You are dead! You're _dead_!"

"Now, I am not," I said in a hushed voice, "But I am not following you either, I…"

At this moment the store owner came back over carrying the dress and a small cloth bag, "Here you go," his voice started off in its usual pleasant tone but when he saw Christine and I he grew worried,

"Ah…perhaps you two would like to speak in the back?" the owner suggested, not wanting us to disrupt his customers. We followed him back to his private work space; Tom, who had been looking around the store, came with us to.

"Ah…Madame de Chagny, I see you have met detective Phann?" the owner of the store said when we were in his office,

"Detective?" Christine said confused, "He is not a detective, he is in love with me, and he is following me," she sounded as though she could hardly believe what she was saying,

"Yes I am a detective, and no I am not following you!" I hissed back,

"You were in this store buying something for me? Weren't you?" she said faintly and she ripped the cloth bag out of the store owners hand and opened it, pulling out the locket, "Oh my God! There is a 'C' on this! You were going to send this to me!"

"No, he wasn't," the owner said, "It is for his wife, her name is CJ,"

"He made it up, He was in love with me," she said feverishly

"Christine," I hissed, "I was not following you!"

"He really wasn't Madame," Tom cut in and I was very grateful he was there; he was the only one who had ever met CJ, and he could attest to the fact that I was here for her, "His wife is CJ, and he has not been following you; he is at the police station all day,"

"Who are you?" Christine asked haughtily

"Oh! You can call me Tom, Madame," he stuck out his hand but Christine did not take it, so Tom continued, "I can assure you Madame, he is married to a woman named CJ, and he is a detective, not a stalker,

"You don't know who is really is!" Christine was not clamed, so I decided I would try to reason with her,

"Christine, I am not following you," I said firmly,

"Yes you are, just like when we were at the opera," she whispered faintly

"Christine, if I was following you today, how could I be picking up a dress which was clearly ordered weeks ago," Christine was silent, so I continued, "And if my intention was to follow you, and I had had these things made for you, wouldn't I have waited for a time when you were not in the store to pick them up?"

Christine looked confused for a moment, then she spoke, "What if you did not know I was going to be in the store?"

I sighed, "If I had been following you, as you claim I have been, than I would have known where you were going to be,"

Christine looked very sadly up at me, and her eyes softened, "You were dead Angel," she said softly, "You were dead,"

I did not know what to make of her; she seemed terrified at first, but now she just seemed sad, "I am dead, Christine," I said firmly, "The man you knew is dead,"

She looked like she was about to cry and I wondered if the pregnancy was making her act in this strange manner, "What are you doing here Angel?" she asked me,

"I am leaving, there is no more angel, remember that," I said and I hurriedly paid the owner, took the dress and the locket from Christine and bolted out of the store, Tom was at my heals,

We walked swiftly down the road in the blustery snow in silence for a time, then Tom spoke,

"Bit of a loony, that one," he said, and I had to laugh as I pulled my coat, another thing I had brought up from the opera, around me tighter,

"She was,"

"That was the girl before CJ?"

"Yes,"

Tom laughed, "They seem a bit like night and day,"

"You have no idea," I could not tell Tom that the truth was Christine had left me in perpetual night and CJ had pulled my into the light of day.

When I reached my home later that night, I was glad to get out of the cold wind and into the warm kitchen. It was a feeling I had never thought I would experience; to come home after a long day to a wife at a hot meal. CJ hated cooking; but she would do it anyway from time to time and as this was Christmas Eve I was not surprised she had made something.

I passed the kitchen where CJ was and quickly put her present in our room.

"Erik?" CJ yelled from the kitchen and I came in a moment later,

"Yes?" I saw she was peering into the stove,

"Ubiquitous," She said,

"I don't follow," I said confused, and she laughed,

"On the table," she said and I turned to see our dinning room table was covered with paper; her next story, "That was the word I was trying to think of, can you write it down over there?"

I wrote it on what appeared to be the last page she had written, "Done,"

"Thank you," She said, pulling away from the stove, "Dinner is almost ready, as soon as I find one of those…" she snapped her fingers, "one of those things,"

"Pot holders?"

"Yes,"

"Tucked into that ridiculous apron you are wearing," She looked down and saw the pot holder,

"It my mind anywhere over there?" she said exasperatedly

"I think it is gone for good," I said, coming over to her and wrapping my arms around her from behind, letting my hands fall on her growing stomach,

"As long as you still love me,"

"Always,"

Dinner was quite good, CJ might not have liked cooking but she did have a knack for it. Of course I never told her that, I would jokingly ask her what the hell that awful taste was, and she would retort that it was just the poison.

After dinner, I told CJ to wait in at the table while I brought her her present.

"What present Erik? I don't need anything," She said when I told her I had gotten her something,

"You do need it, so wait here, and close your eyes," I had a strange sort of excitement running through me as I raced up the stairs and retrieved what I had bought for her; I had never given anyone a Christmas present before.

"Alright," I said as I walked into the dinning room, "Wait a moment," and I put the locket around her neck and the dress in her lap, "Look,"

She opened her eyes and looked down at the dress. I had designed the damn thing for her; years at the opera watching the costumers and all the aristocrats of Paris parade around was as good as any other training in tailoring. CJ was a unique woman and I wanted to make this dress to fit her personality. It was whimsical, not what everyone else in Paris high fashion would have thought to wear, but more beautiful because of it.

"Oh, Erik," she picked up the blue green dress, "It's magnificent! I wish I could wear it right now!" I had given measurements which were from when she was not pregnant and now the dress would not fit her until after she had the baby, "It must have cost a fortune!"

"You are worth a fortune," I was still standing behind her and I kiss the top of her head, "And I got you this as well," and I tugged at the locket,

"Oh!" she looked down at the locket, "It is beautiful; thank you darling," she stood and kissed me swiftly, "Now you have to wait here while I get your present ready,"

"You got me something?" I said, the idea had never even occurred to me,

"Of course I did!" She smiled, "Now wait here,"

She was gone several minutes before she came back, grinning from ear to ear, "Alright, you have to come with me," She took me by the hand and led me out of the kitchen and to my surprise to the door of the suicide room; the only bedroom on this floor of the house,

"The haunted room?" I teased, knowing that was what CJ called it,

"Close your eyes," CJ smiled, and I did so. I heard the door open,

"Alright," CJ's voice was brimming with excitement, "look,"

I opened my eyes and almost fell over; the room I was looking at could not possibly have been the suicide room; it was painted white; and a large carpet was on the floor covering the bloodstains. The whole room was lit with candles which I recognized were from the house by the lake. But that was not the most stunning thing; the most stunning thing in the room was that the beds were gone, and in there place there was a large piano and a violin.

I stumbled backward as though there had been a blast when the door opened, "Oh CJ…_How_?"

"When I was negotiating with the newspaper, I threatened to sell the story to someone else, and they jumped to keep me from doing it; your friend Nadir brought up the candles and the violin,"

I walked slowly into the room, running my hands along the two instruments, I could not believe this…no one had ever given my anything; ever. That CJ had done this for me; she always said she loved me but I guess I never realized what that meant. That she loved me enough to do all this for me…

Stunned I turned to see her leaning against the doorframe, smiling. I opened my mouth but my voice stuck; and I just went to her and kissed her deeply.

I made love to her that night; carefully because of the baby but passionately none the less. I moved with her; I treasured the blissful look on her face while I was inside of her. When we were spent and I lay beside her; I pulled her close to me.

"You did not have to get me anything; CJ," I whispered to her, "You are enough, knowing you are mine is enough,"

"I am yours," she whispered back, and I kissed her goodnight.


	30. Bernadette Estelle

It was late February and CJ was nearing her due date when I realized something else we were going to need; I did not like the idea of leaving CJ alone all day, she could go into labor and have no way of getting any help. We needed a midwife who would stay with her throughout the day, and after the baby was born, as CJ was going back to work at the station, someone to take care of the baby.

We were at a loss for some time; we did not have enough money to really afford anyone. Thankfully Nadir, who visited increasingly more often, informed me the Marie Giry had left the opera due to un agreeable managers, and he was sure she would come and help with the baby, as Meg was now in England.

I wasted no time in asking her, and at first it seemed she was going to refuse, but when I told her how dire our need for her was she agreed. Marie began staying with CJ the next day,

"She hates me," CJ told me after she had been there one day. CJ did not really seem troubled by this; she was just stating it using her familiar even tone. We were sitting on the piano bench. I had been teaching CJ how to play, well, not really how to play, how to play better.

The first time I had suggested I teach her to play she had sat down excitedly and was eager to learn. One hour and no progress later, I was ready to give up and I told CJ she was hopelessly tone deaf; she confused even the simplest instructions. As I had turned to leave, telling her to come with me, she said she wanted one more try. She proceeded to play the scale perfectly. I had spent the next few minutes yelling, while she laughed at her little joke. It seemed her father had taught her to play, and she played me for a fool.

"What do you mean she hates you?" I asked confused, as I marked a note on the piece of music I had written for her to practice

"She hates me; she thinks I am too active for a pregnant woman, and she thinks it is down right wrong for my to go back to work after I have a child," CJ continued evenly,

"Did she tell you all that?" I asked, and I smiled because I knew that in all likely hood Marie had said all that,

"Oh yes,"

"And you said?"

"That I was not paying her for her opinions; her only job is to see to it that I don't die, and it will be a cold day in hell before I give a damn about her opinion,"

I laughed, "You know, according to Dante the deepest circle of hell is cold,"

CJ shook her head, "I can't believe you were an assassin and you just started a sentence with, 'according to Dante,'"

"I know you like it," I said, marking another note,

"I _do_ like it, Erik Phann," she said in a low voice, and she slid closer to me; the dress she was wearing was cut low and I could see down it with easy. Some of the men at the station had asked me if CJ wasn't driving me mad with mood swings and outrageous demands; however it was quite the opposite. I enjoyed pregnant CJ; true it sometimes made her uncomfortable and that upset me, but her emotional states were tolerable. Also pregnancy made her breasts swell and her desire for me increase.

"I think we have had enough music for today," I said. I thought about a time when I had believed I would find nothing I loved to do more than play music. However, I had been very wrong, I thought to myself as CJ led me upstairs, I had been very wrong.

"Erik,"

It was three weeks later and I was sitting at my desk, comparing the handwriting of a suspect against a note we had found at a murder scene, when Tom came running toward me,

"Erik!" He shouted,

"What?" I looked up; his face was excited and his eyes were wide,

"Erik," He grabbed my desk, "A man is waiting outside; he said CJ just went into labor!"

I jumped up and ran for the door; I did not hear anything anyone said behind me. At the door of the station Nadir was waiting, motioning me on into the cab he had waiting,

"How is she?" I asked, I felt so anxious to get home I could not keep my leg from shaking and I was wringing my hands together,

"She is fine," Nadir said in a soothing voice, and I stopped shaking so much, "Well, she is not _fine_; she is pushing a baby out of her body, she is yelling and sweating and moaning," I started shaking again,

I jumped out of the cab before it stopped moving and ran into the house; leaving Nadir to pay the driver. I ran up the stairs and into our room. CJ was laying on the bed; propped up with pillows and holding her stomach,

"Are you alright?" I asked, kneeling down beside her,

"Do I look alright!" she screamed, then she took several more deep breaths, "Sorry, this just really hurts," she closed her eyes,

It was terrible to see her in so much pain and not be able to do a thing about it. We all did our best to make her comfortable; Marie and Nadir brought water and wet towels to wipe her forehead with. I would have gone to get her anything she asked, but she had a grip on my hand and she did not want to let go.

An hour after I returned there was a knock on our door and Nadir ran down to see who the hell it was. When he came back up, he was followed by a middle aged red haired woman,

"Who the hell are you?" CJ snapped as the woman entered the room,

"I am Estella Dumas, I am a midwife,"

"_Dumas_?" I asked,

"That's right, I am your captain's wife," she said with a small, business like smile,

"He sent you to help me?" CJ asked in a pained voice,

"Yes," Estella had carried in a bag and she was setting it down and going through it; she had a very calm, professional manner,

"That was sweet of him," CJ said in a thankful voice,

"He is a sweet man," Estella murmured, and then she stood and addressed everyone, "Alright, I want everyone but the husband out," and Marie and Nadir trudged out of the room,

"CJ, I want you to relax, I have assisted in many births and I have extensive medical training,"

"Do you have anything that will make the pain stop?" she asked desperately,

"No," Estella responded bluntly,

"Well then I think you need more medical training,"

In three hours, CJ was still in a lot of pain; but Estella informed us that the baby should be coming soon. However, it was late in the night before anything happened. CJ was lying on her side and I was stroking her back when she screamed suddenly and Estella quickly instructed her to roll back upright and ten minutes later, Estella told her to start to push.

CJ did, and she squeezed my hand so hard I thought it would fall off. An hour later, Estella yelled that she could see the head, then the shoulders, and she told CJ to push once more hard, and CJ screamed; my hand broke, and CJ fell back against the pillows and we heard the loud cries of a baby.

"Oh God," CJ panted, "Is it alright, is the baby alright?" I did not quite know what she meant by that, but I rushed to Estella's side to look at my child.

Estella had cut the umbilical cord and was wrapping it in a blanket, "It's a girl," she announced, and I looked at my daughter for the first time.

She looked perfect; I could have cried when I saw that she was not in anyway deformed, her little red face was perfectly smooth. She had quite a bit of black hair which was much like mine, but when she opened her eyes I saw they were bright green.

"Can I hold her please?" CJ begged, looking longingly at her child she had just worked so hard to bring into this world,

"Of course," Estella brought the baby over and handed her to CJ,

CJ took the crying child into her arms and almost immediately she stopped wailing and gurgled contently, stretching her tiny arm upwards, "Oh she is beautiful! She has your hair, and my eyes! She's perfect!"

I sat down on the bed next to her, wrapping my arm around her and staring at our child. I could not believe I was looking at our child; that a part of me had gone into making something so beautiful and so small,

"What are you going to name her?" Estella asked, and it seemed as though watching a family expand made her businesslike manner evaporate, for she smiled broadly and glowed as though she was a new mother herself,

"Bernadette," we chorused; CJ had suggested using the name of the little girl she had rescued from her mother if we had a girl, and I had thought it was a wonderful idea,

"What about her middle name?" Estella asked, and we said nothing, we had never picked another girls name,

"How about Estelle?" CJ asked, "In honor of our wonderful midwife,"

"Bernadette Estelle," I said, calling my daughter by her name for the first time.

Marie and Nadir came in and praised our beautiful child for some time. CJ was still holding her; she had not let anyone else touch her. However, after a time, she asked me,

"Do you want to hold her?"

I took my daughter in my arms for the first time; she was so light I felt like I was not holding anything at all. She did not cry when I held her, she was not afraid of me. She cooed contently in my arms and I breathed a sigh of relief. My daughter had not rejected me.

Marie and Nadir were finally ushered out of the room; they had both decided to stay the night just in case, but Estella said it was time to give the mother a rest. Then we were finally alone; all my family in one room.

"She is beautiful, Erik," CJ said again, she was holding Bernadette again,

"She looks just like you," I said, I was next to her on the bed with my arms around her,

"She looks like you two," CJ said as she adored our daughter, "You see that scowl she is making right now? She looks just like you!"

Suddenly Bernadette began to cry and nothing either of us could do seemed to quiet her; then CJ had a thought,

"Could she be hungry?"

"I don't know," I said, I really did not know anything about babies,

"I think she might be hungry," and CJ pulled down one side of her dress; and the baby immediately moved to her nipple and began to drink,

"I can't believe I am nursing _my_ _child_, I can't _believe_ it," she said softly, and I kissed her neck; I did not know really what to say; she had given me something I had never dreamed of; she had given me a family.

"I love you," I whispered into her ear,

"I love you two," she sighed and leaned back against me.

When I could finally convince CJ to stop holding the baby, she fell asleep very quickly; not surprising considering the fact that it was by this time the early hours of the morning.

Left alone with my child, I cradled her in my arms and watched her sleep until dawn came; breaking cold and clear. I was so fascinated by my daughter I hardly noticed what time it was. I stared at her; she was so small, her whole hand was the size of my smallest finger, and she was so peaceful; she lay quietly in my arms, occasionally moving slightly. When this happened I would hold my breath at the sensation of my own daughter moving in my arms.

I had never thought in all my life that I would have a child; even when CJ had been pregnant I had not really believed and I half expected every morning that I would wake up alone in the dark house by the lake. But it was real, it was all real.

As the morning drew on, I realized sadly that I had to go back to work. I did not want to wake CJ; she needed her rest. I softly kissed her forehead and left the room. Marie was already awake and I handed the baby to her, telling her to put her in CJ's room.

I stumbled tiredly out of the house. I had not slept at all the night before; I was still in the clothes I had been wearing when I had run out of the station house. When I arrived at Etrange and walked through the front doors Tom rushed up to me,

"Well?" He looked at me, holding his breath,

I blinked several times, "She had a girl,"

These four words caused a great deal of commotion; everyone started clapping at once and I felt five people slap me on the back; not to mention Tom, who actually embraced me,

"Congratulations!" Tom said as he let go of me; had I not been so tired I would have pushed him away, but I was exhausted,

"Alright! That is enough now, I have to talk to the new father here," Dumas was approaching, and he motioned for me to follow him back to his office. As I entered it I had a bazaar flashback to the time when CJ and I had first walked through the station house to the office. Everything had changed since then; and I was grateful it had.

"Take a seat," Dumas said lightly, sinking into his own chair. I practically fell into the wooden chair, "You look tired," Dumas said bluntly,

"I did not sleep last night,"

"Get used to it; babies cry,"

I wondered if Dumas had any children, and then I remembered, "Thank you very much, for sending your wife to us; she was invaluable,"

"Glad to hear it," Dumas said in a surprisingly kind tone, "How is CJ?"

"She was sleeping when I left her,"

"And the baby?"

"She was sleeping too,"

"And they are both alright?"

"Yes, they are fine,"

Dumas smiled, "Estella told me as much; just making sure everyone was still alright,"

"We are all fine," and suddenly I realized that we were all fine because of Dumas; he had saved our lives from execution in prison, and then given us jobs, it was because of him that CJ and I were happy, "Thank you very much, Sir, for all you have done for us," I said, standing again,

Dumas stood as well, "I did not think you liked called me 'sir'"

"I think you deserve it now, Sir,"

"Your damn right I do; and don't get the wrong idea when I say this; you are still scum, but you're the best scum that I have come across in a long time; every madly impossible thing I have asked you and CJ to do you have done admirably. I don't think I have anyone working for me that is better at their job than you are,"

"Thank you Sir,"

"Don't call me sir; Captain is fine," and he reached out his hand to me,

I shook it, "Thank you Captain,"

"Alright, no get out of here, go home, see your wife; tell her I am glad to hear everything went well and that I will see her when she comes back here; and kiss that daughter of yours for me,"

I nodded open mouthed at his kindness, "I will," and I turned to leave,

"Erik?"

"yes?" I stopped and turned,

"You are still scum," but he was half smiling at me,

I smiled, "I know Captain,"

At the house CJ was awake when I returned,

"What are you doing home?" She asked; she was still in the bed, holding Bernadette,

"Dumas sent me home," I said, dropping down on the bed beside her,

"What did you do?" She asked me wryly,

"I didn't do anything," I said, "He just sent me home; he said he was glad you were alright and to kiss our daughter from him,"

"You are not actually going to do that are you?" She said,

"No, defiantly not,"

As tired as I was I still did not sleep; the day was far to ideal. I was alone with CJ and our new daughter; I was not going to waste the opportunity to spend the whole day with them by sleeping.

It was late at night before we put our daughter down to sleep. We set her in the crib which we had moved into our room for the time being. She did not cry as I thought she would when we set her down. I stared at her in the crib for a moment; if someone had told me when I had first taken this crib that it would one day hold my daughter I would have laughed in their face.

I fell gratefully into the bed, CJ along with me. She turned, her face toward me, and entwined her legs with mine and buried her face in my chest. She murmured something and I heard her breathing slow; she was asleep. Finally I slipped off my mask and closed my tired eyes.


	31. Welcome back

CJ and I soon discovered that it was necessary to get along with out any sleep at all. Bernadette I think was born with a sick sense of humor, because she took no greater joy than waking us up in the middle of the night and crying until one of us picked her up and held her.

The only thing that seemed to make her stay asleep was my voice. If I sang to her, she usually slipped into a deep slumber which she did not wake from until morning. Therefore, when it was CJ's turn to rock the baby back to sleep I usually felt a tap on my shoulder and was woken up anyway in order to sing the baby back to sleep.

We were exhausted, and it was about to get worse. Since I had to work all day CJ usually did most of the work with the baby. However, two weeks after she was born CJ returned to the station.

I was glad she was back, even though we had had little time working together as detectives, we had had quite a bit working together as assassins and I missed her company. However, it left us both all the more exhausted.

It was difficult at first for us to leave Bernadette at home with Marie; although she was perfectly capable, it made us both nervous. The first day CJ came back; greeted by warm congratulations although some were a bit skeptical about the appropriateness of her return, all she thought about was if Bernadette was alright. Was she cold? Was she sleeping? Did she miss her mother?

When we came home, CJ ran straight to our daughter and held her for an hour straight; I was left to fix dinner. As difficult as this routine was, we adapted to it. Marie was a great help, and I could not help but notice that she and CJ, though quite different, were now able to tolerate each other. They still had arguments and often spoke rudely to each other, but it was my suspicion the deep down they held a great respect for each other.

With in weeks of CJ coming back to the station house, she had fit into the normal swing of things. She was quite talented, and despite the fact that she was now a mother, she had no problem running after someone and pulling them to the ground. The only awkward moment was the first confrontation between CJ and Leo Denton, three weeks after her return.

Denton had stayed out of her way as much as possible, and when he did talk to her it was in a tone which suggested that nothing had ever happened between them. I thought he was going to pretend the whole incident had never happened and not say another word about it. This was fine with me. Every time I saw him go near her I would tense up a bit. Even though I knew CJ had turned him down flat and I was in no danger of losing her; I would always hate him for trying to take what was mine.

I was fairly certain the Denton was going to go on with out acknowledging what had happened between them when I saw him follow her to the back of the station house. Using every technique of following and listening with out being heard or noticed, I made after him,

"CJ," He said by way of greeting,

"Leo," She said shortly back, and she turned to go back to the desk we still shared, but Denton grabbed her by the arm,

"CJ I think we need to talk,"

"About what?" she asked mildly,

"About what happened the last time I saw you," he said seriously,

"What do you want to say?"

Denton cleared his throat, "I want to…apologize, CJ," CJ silently regarded him, her arms folded in front of her, "If I had known…the way you felt, I never would have tried to convince you to leave with me,"

"It's alright, Leo, I should have been honest with you from the beginning,"

"Well…good then," Denton said awkwardly, "I was happy to hear that you and the baby were doing well,"

"Thank you,"

"I…ah…I think you look magnificent," at these words I tensed up and I noticed CJ raise her eyebrows, "I mean…for just having a baby; some women get rather fat and bloated, but you look wonderful,"

"Thank you," CJ said, and she started laughing, "But before you say another word I think you should know my husband is standing right over there and he is listening to every word you say,"

Denton whipped around and I had a brief though of turning away and pretending I had not heard a thing but I knew that was futile, so I just glared back at Denton. CJ was laughing hysterically now,

"Well, now that I have created this little awkward moment, I think I am just going to walk out of it; you two can duel or play cards or whatever it is you men do to assert yourselves," And with this CJ walked back to the desk, laughing and throwing me a sly look as she passed.

After a moment I cleared my throat, "I have work to do," and with this I turned on my heel and walked back to the desk.

"Did you have to so that?" I whispered to CJ,

"No, I didn't have to, but it was so amusing," She smiled as she looked over a paper in her hands,

"It was not amusing," I hissed,

"Really? Well you should have been standing where I was, it was very amusing from there," she responded, still smiling,

"Do you take pleasure in this?" I growled,

"So much,"

It was at this moment that the doors of the station house burst open. Two men, one of them Tom, were struggling to control a large, dirty looking man who was thrashing wildly to escape their grasp.

I hurried over, attempting to help, but just as I reached them the man freed one arm and thrashed out with it, which would have been alright, had he not been holding a knife.

The large blade sliced my stomach and for a moment I did not even realize I had been cut; I just saw the knife and grabbed his arm, twisting the knife out of his hand and slamming my fist into his jaw. This action served to stop the man from struggling so much and Tom regained a hold on his arm. The man was dragged back to interrogation room and I followed.

"Erik," CJ stopped me dead with her terrified voice, and I saw she was looking down at my stomach; red blood was blooming out from my stomach from one side to the other.

CJ threw all the papers off of our desk, "Lay down," she hit the top of the desk,

I was about to say I was fine but Dumas never gave me the chance, "Do it, Phann, CJ, go in my office, call a doctor,"

I lay on the top of the desk; I put my hand over my stomach and then looked at it; it was covered with glistening red blood and I groaned. It had been an incredibly stupid idea to run over to the man; but I knew who he was. I did not know his name, but by the way everyone had stared at him when he came in I knew who the man was.

For weeks we had been getting reports of missing children. A couple would come in to report their child missing, and about a week later the child would be found; dead and horribly tortured. Everyone was looking for the culprit, and Tom had gone out on a lead to investigate, and I knew the man he had brought in was the one we had been looking for.

I wanted to kill him; I wanted to slit his sick throat and I would, given the chance I knew I would. His crimes were despicable regardless, but I had a child now; when I thought about Bernadette and how devastating it would be if she was ever taken…I wanted to kill this man.

However, it seemed it might be the other way around. I felt the blood spill out of me and I wondered how bad the knife wound was. It would be just like my tortured fate to kill me know; know that I was finally happy.

I closed my eyes and wondered where CJ was. My stomach was hurting now, the pain of the cut registering in my mind. I must have closed my eyes for a much longer time then I realized, because when I opened them again I was looking at a man I did not recognize.

"Welcome back," The man said, and I noticed my shirt was open and I felt a sharp prick in my stomach, "I am just closing the wound here, luckily it was not very deep; superficial wounds like this bleed like hell,"

"So I am alright?" I asked hopefully,

"For now sure, you just have to take care that these stitches do not open up again, so no night time escapades for awhile; I saw that blond wife of yours and I know it will be difficult; but you don't want anymore stitches than you really need; there," He finished,

"It's not going to be too much of a problem, we just had a baby," I said, and I have to admit it was odd to tell someone that we had had a child,

"Oh! Than you won't be having any night time fun for another year or so," the doctor said good naturedly, "My wife had a child last summer; still haven't had another go at making another one,"

"Can I sit up?" I asked,

"Yes, just be careful,"

I sat up and looked around; the whole station house was deserted, "I think everyone is back at the interrogation room, or at least that is where your wife headed after I told her you would be alright,"

I nodded and shook the doctors hand, "Thank you,"

"Not at all, and good luck with the new baby," he tipped his hat to me and walked out of the police station.

I re buttoned my shirt and walked toward the interrogation room where I saw the whole police station was gathered; no doubt watching the man be questioned. I pushed my way to the front, and when I looked through the two way mirror into the room my mouth fell open;

CJ was in there; alone with the man.

"What the hell…?" I shouted, and Dumas found his way to my side,

"Some others tried to get him talking, and when that didn't work she wanted a chance at him," he spoke mildly,

"So you let her go in there!" I yelled; I was infuriated; if he had cut me than what would he do to CJ?

"It's her job," Dumas said sternly, "And we need him to talk; he still had victims somewhere and we can't help them unless he tells us where they are; so quiet down so I can hear what they are saying,"

I turned my eyes to the room and I felt like a ghost again; watching another world and being powerless to have any affect on it. The man was sitting quietly now, his hands folded above the table,

"Tell me where your other victims are," CJ said lightly, and I saw she had the knife the man had cut me with in her hand; she was turning it around and around.

The man said nothing, he did not even blink, "I do have all day," CJ said, "I can wait here until you talk," her tone was indifferent, but by the glowing in her eyes I could tell it was taking every ounce of her willpower not to kill the man then and there.

He still did not say anything, "We found your other victims, after you had stabbed them to death, you sick idiot," CJ said coldly,

"I am not an idiot," the man spoke for the first time,

"Yes you are," CJ said in the same icy tone, and she kept turning the knife around in her hands,

"I am more intelligent than everyone in this station; that is why you will never find the others," he smiled, satisfied with himself,

"If you are so smart," CJ said slowly, "than why are you in here? Weren't you _smart_ enough not to get caught?"

The man was silent, "Oh yes, you are a _smart_ man," CJ said sarcastically, "It takes a real criminal mastermind to kill a child," and with this she stabbed the knife down hard into the wooden table,

"Don't do that," the man said, and he sounded a bit frantic, as if the noise knife hitting the table and the down ward motion of the stab,

"What this?" CJ asked coolly and brought the knife down again,

"Stop! It's not made for that!" he shouted,

"Than what is it made for!" CJ yelled back, "Killing innocent children!"

"They had to die! I had to punish their parents!" the man shouted wildly, "they were all revolutionaries! I had to stop them!"

The man was clearly mad, and I could see the wheels in CJ's head spinning as she wondered what the hell to say next,

"How did you know?" She breathed, and I blinked, bewildered,

"What do you mean?" the man sounded as confused as I was,

"All the victims of the parents were revolutionaries; we have been trying to eliminate them, but how did you know what to do?" She was going to play along,

"The voice of God told me,"

CJ nodded, "We have to finish God's work, I will help you, just tell me what to do," she knelt next to him and stared into his eyes with an innocent look on her face,

"Go to the Rue Brute, the blue house, go to the basement, punish them!"

"You heard him! Get moving!" Dumas shouted and I heard people behind me run; no doubt headed for the Rue Brute, but I stayed with my eyes on CJ,

CJ stood and I watched her eyes go from a look of innocence to a look of malevolent triumph, "You are a sick man; I hope you liked your life, because it is going to be over soon," and with this she left the room,

"Erik! How does your stomach feel?" she asked when she saw me,

"My stomach is fine, but I don't know about my nerves! What the hell were you thinking, going in there alone?" I was half yelling,

"I am not afraid of doing things Erik," CJ said coolly, and then she dropped her voice, "and don't you dare try to reprimand me in front of everyone," she was glaring at me,

"Oh Christ CJ! You're my wife!" I growled,

"And what? That means you can control the things I do?" she said angrily, "I just got a man to tell us where his victims where and possibly saved some lives and what do I get from you?"

"CJ, you could have died in there, he could have hurt you!"

"Why? Because he already hurt you? Or don't you remember, you rushed over to help and _you_ ended up getting stabbed! You, not me!"

"Hey!" Dumas yelled, "Keep the marital squabble out of the workplace!"

CJ and I were in a bad mood with each other the rest of the day; we hardly spoke. We were at our door when I stopped her,

"I wasn't trying to control you," I said exasperatedly, "I just meant I was worried about your safety,"

"I know," she turned to me, "How do you think I felt when I saw that knife cut through you?"

I sighed, "Alright, just…be careful,"

"I think it is a bit hypocritical that you tell me to be careful when you are the one who needed stitches to day," CJ shook her head at me,

"I am just concerned; I can't lose you," I stepped closer to her, and she rolled her eyes and let herself fall into my arms,

"Do you understand why I was angry with you?" CJ asked, lifting her head to look at me,

"Yes,"

"And you are sorry?"

"Yes,"

"Alright then," and she leaned forward and kiss my lips lightly, "Let's go inside; it's freezing out here,"

We entered the house;

"Where is my little girl?" CJ smiled as she met Marie and took Bernadette out of her arms,

"She had been right here all day," Marie said crossly, "And if you were any kind of a mother than you would know that you should be right here with her,"

With out missing a beat or changing her voice from the light, happy tone she spoke to our daughter in, CJ fired back, "And you should realize you should be on a broom somewhere; riding over the city,"

I laughed; they often had exchanges like this; and I thought they rather liked them,

"Oh, I think I need to change her," she when upstairs; I turned and when into the kitchen, looking for something to eat and Marie followed me,

"How was your day?" Marie asked me, and this was a bit odd; usually she packed up and left the minute we returned home,

"Oh…ah…" I was distracted as I looked into a cupboard, "They caught the guy in the papers; the one who was…hurting all the children,"

"That's good," Marie said,

"ERIK!" I heard CJ yell from upstairs, "Where did I put the clean clothes!"

"In the chest by the door!" I yelled back,

"There aren't in there!" She yelled,

"Did you check the chest in the baby's room or in our room!"

"Our room!"

"Check the baby's room!"

There was a pause... "I found them!"

I shook my head and smiled, I believed that CJ could lose her head if it was not attached,

"You two really love each other, don't you?" I looked up surprised to see Marie staring at me,

"Yes, we do," I said slowly,

"It's just, some couples don't…act that way,"

I did not know what she was talking about, or who she was talking about, so I just stayed silent,

"You both love that little girl too, don't you?"

I stared at her, "Of course we do, Marie, what has gotten into you all of a sudden?"

She opened and closed her mouths several times, then she spoke, "I got another job offer,"

I froze, we could not do with out her, "From who?" I tried to remain calm,

"Well…you know, Christine just had her baby and she asked me if I wanted to help her with it,"

I swallowed hard; I had not know Christine had had her baby, in fact I had forgotten she was even pregnant. I was sure Marie was going to leave us, and I could not really blame her; she would have better wages and be able to work in a better house,

"Marie…" I began, trying to think of what I could say to her to make her stay,

"I am not going to take the job," Marie said, and I stared, "I don't want to leave this family; and I don't think I could leave your little girl,"

At this moment CJ came back into the kitchen, holding a fresh Bernadette in her arms, "Oh!" she said when she saw Marie, "Your still here," CJ walked over to me and handed me the baby while she picked up the bread I had been eating,

"I just wanted to speak to you two about something," Marie said, "I was wondering if maybe I should move in here; I could help more with Bernadette and I could cook and clean…"

We stared at her, "We can't…pay you any more than we already are," CJ said slowly,

"I know, I just thought…it would be better for you two,"

"That would be wonderful Marie," I said,

She brightened, "Well then I will bring my things to tomorrow,"

I nodded, "Good,"

Marie turned to leave, but to my surprise CJ stopped her, "Wait, Marie,"

"Yes?"

"Would you like to stay for dinner?"

She smiled and nodded,

"Good, what are you making?" CJ laughed, and Marie's eyes narrowed, "Oh I'm not serious! Sit down and stop pouting!"

In this way the four of us became a kind of family. We all got on quite well, we had our arguments but they were generally resolved easily. Over the next three years, we became quite comfortable with each other.

Bernadette grew quickly; she became a curious and adventurous toddler who delighted us to no end. Everything about her; her first word, first steps, were absolutely fascinating. However, the thing that thrilled me the most was when she was still very little and had barely started talking I went into her room at night because I heard her crying. However, when I went into her room, I realized she was not crying, she was singing.

Since that moment I had coxed her musical skill and by the age of three she could play several small tunes on the piano. However she enjoyed simply pounding on the keys until her mother pulled her away much more.

CJ remained the most remarkable woman I had ever met and I still felt a thrill every time she kissed me. We had our fights, and there was even a night where we did not sleep in the same room. That had been terrible, but when I saw her the next morning she pulled me into our room and shoved me into our bed. Each time we slept together after the birth of our daughter we took precaution against CJ becoming pregnant again. We could not afford another child, nor did I want to again take the risk of the child being born with a deformity.

Work improved; CJ and I were becoming respected as detectives and we were trusted with more and more.

For these three years all went smoothly, and then Dumas called us into his office; his face grim.

"I have to talk to you two about something,"

"What?" I asked him,

"Richard Cromwell," and I felt my wife tense beside me.


	32. Cromwell empire

"What…what about him?" CJ asked in a shaky voice; it was rare to hear CJ sound upset and I glared at Dumas; what was he thinking? Mentioning that man to her?

"It is not the Richard Cromwell you are thinking of, CJ, it's his son, Richard Cromwell Jr. his father had been in a wheel chair since a carriage hit him a year ago; paralyzed him from the waste down,"

CJ tipped her head down into her hand to hide the fact that she was crying. She quickly wiped her eyes and looked back up as Dumas,

"So what about his son?" She asked,

"Unfortunately he is just as bad as dear old dad; I don't know if he is exactly the same way, but I do know he is involved in some very shifty dealings," Dumas pulled a folder out of his desk and handed it to me,

"Normally a scheme like this would go without us stopping it, but Fillips is tired of rich people getting a free pass every time they break the law, so he wanted me to try and crack this,"

I looked through the papers in the folder Dumas had handed me; there were financial records and notes which looked like they would take hours to go through,

"The short of it is this," Dumas began, "Out of all the aristocrats in Paris you would be surprised how many actually have very little money left, and are willing to do anything short of working to get more of it,"

I handed the folder to CJ and focused on Dumas,

"That is where Cromwell came in; he came up with an idea which is actually quite clever. He hired a small crew of lowlifes and got them a boat. They go out and attack the merchant vessels, they steal the cargo, then sell it themselves for a greater profit; they don't have to pay all the expenses of a long voyage so they can sell at lower prices,"

I stared at Dumas, "That's not so strange, is it?"

"No," CJ answered for me, "People have been doing it for years,"

"Yes I know," Dumas growled, "Here is where it gets tricky; he doesn't have just one boat anymore, we think he had seven, and he has branched out; he has the ports of Paris covered as well as several in England and Spain, and he is not just going after ships carrying foods and silks; they have gone after boats carrying weapons to take back onto theirs, he is building an underground empire,"

"How is he doing it all?" CJ asked, bewildered,

"His financial backing comes from all those aristocrats who are afraid of losing their social status but don't want to start a business of their own. They give payments to Cromwell, then he gives them back profits. They make money and nobody needs to know how,"

"How do you know all of this?" I asked,

"It was not easy. A police chief on the cost in the port of Bordeaux got the first tip from an angry merchant ship captain who was a victim of Cromwell's scheme. From there it has taken almost a year to figure out exactly what is going on and to link Cromwell to the dealings. Our big break was capturing one of the sailors from one of the Cromwell ships and questioning him to death; _literally_; and then Cromwell was tracked back here, to Paris. And obviously, since most of the information we have about this is from less than reputable casts and we are going up against the most influential citizens of Paris, we can't use any of it against him, we need something solid. We are not sure exactly where he is, but he is somewhere in this city, and now it is in our hands," Dumas finished,

"So what do we have to do?" CJ asked,

"Find him, and find his contacts. Once we do the ships he has set up should fall out of order; cut off the head of the beast…"

"And the rest will die," I finished

"Exactly," Dumas paused, "I want you two to know that Fillips requested specially that you two be on this case, he could have put that folder you two are looking at in anyone's hands; but he chose me, because he chose you two,"

"So no pressure?" CJ said sarcastically,

"You are under so much pressure it could break a brick bridge, so don't bungle it," Dumas said sternly,

"It's hard to take someone seriously after they use so many B's," I said wryly,

"Go to work," Dumas shook his head, "Now!"

"You know how big this city is?" I said as we sat back down at our one desk; there had been talk of bringing another one up from storage, but no one ever acted on it, "The chances of us finding Richard Cromwell Jr. with in the month are very slim,"

"I think I know where we should start," CJ said heavily, "We know where his father is,"

"What are you suggesting?" I asked her slowly,

"I remember where his father lives; we should start by asking him about his son,"

"CJ," I looked at her gently, "You don't have to see him again, you never have to,"

"Yes, I do," she said shakily, "It is the best way to find his son, and you heard Dumas, we need to find him,"

"I don't care about what Dumas said; your safety is in jeopardy; that is what I care about,"

CJ stared at me with determined eyes, "I want him Erik," she said slowly, "I want to bring him down, him and his son, I want to be there when all this is revealed and watch him get dragged off to prison and know that I did it,"

I nodded; by the look in her eyes she was not going to change her mind. It was true; starting with the father would be a good idea, but if he should recognize CJ…I made up my mind in a moment that should Cromwell do anything to upset her he would be a dead man.

The house of Richard Cromwell was located in one of the more posh areas of Paris. CJ stoically directed me there; she was gripping my leg harder and harder as we got closer. When we pulled up the driveway of the large, brown house and I stopped the cab I turned to her,

"You are _sure_ about this?"

"Yes Erik,"

I sighed and we walked toward the house. I knocked forcefully on the door and a maid answered,

"Good afternoon, Paris police," I said and I showed her the silver shield we had been given from Dumas proving we were detectives, "We need to speak to Richard Cromwell,"

The maid shook her head, "Monsieur Cromwell does not like to have visitors at this time of day,"

"We are not here to _visit_," CJ said authoritatively, "We are the police and we need to speak to Monsieur Cromwell,"

The maid hesitated a moment more, then she backed up and let us inside, "Wait here a moment," she said, "I will go tell Monsieur Cromwell you are here,"

CJ and I stood in the foyer, looking around the house, "It is just how it was back then," she whispered to me, and I admired her for her bravery in facing her past,

The maid returned, "Monsieur is in the study, follow me please," she led us to a handsome study in which an older man was seated in a wheel chair. He looked quite formidable, he had mostly gray hair and small, blue eyes which looked as cold as ice.

I stared back at him and I suddenly felt a wave of anger toward him; he had hurt my wife; this man had raped the mother of my child! I wanted to strangle him; I wanted to choke the life out of him with my lasso.

However, if I did that then it would only make things worse, and if CJ could control herself than so could I.

"You two are the police?" He asked roughly, and he surveyed us both with a disapproving eye,

"Detectives, actually," I said coldly,

"Well I don't think you look much like detectives either," he snapped, "You look like a sideshow act and a woman,"

"Which one is supposed to be which?" CJ asked wryly, and I was amazed at how calm she was,

"Is that supposed to be humorous, woman?" he asked,

"No, I am not here to entertain you," CJ said, "We need to ask you about your son,"

"What about him?" the ageing man barked,

"We think he may have been the victim of bank fraud and we need to talk to him," I said quickly; I had realized that saying 'we suspect your son is a dirty rotten crook' was not the best way to get him to tell us where his son was so I lied,

"A bank?" he growled, "Didn't the bank have his address?"

"Just the address of his accountant,"

"And his accountant did not have his address?"

"He is on vacation, now are you going to help out your son or not?" I asked and I hoped Cromwell was finished poking around my lie,

He considered for a moment, "Yes, yes of course, you, woman," and he pointed at CJ, "fetch me that pen and paper over there," CJ glared at him and slowly stood and retrieved the paper and pen, along with a book for him to write on,

"There," he scribbled an address on the paper, "I hope they send more competent detectives to finish up this investigation, I am going to complain to the Chief of Police about you two, I don't like you,"

"Good day Monsieur," I said standing and taking the paper from him; CJ and I were walking out of the room when Cromwell called;

"You, woman," I froze and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight; beside me CJ was trying to keep from shaking too much; she turned to face him slowly,

"Do I know you from somewhere?" he barked, "You look familiar,"

"No, Monsieur," she said with forced calm, "You don't know me at all,"

He stared back at her with cold blue eyes, "I suppose I don't, you would have remembered meeting someone like me,"

CJ just nodded, "We must be going," I said shortly and I quickly put my arm around CJ and walked her to the front door.

When we were back in the cab, CJ gasped for breath and shook furiously, and I drove until we were far away from the house and then I stopped. I took her shaking form in my arms and held her for awhile. It was a chilly April day and I directed CJ out of the cab and into a warm café.

Moments later we were seated at a table; CJ was sipping warm coffee,

"I hate him," she said sadly, "I hate him so much I want to kill him,"

"So do I, but he did give us the address of his son; you were strong enough to face him and get what we needed from him," I was amazed at how well she had handled the situation,

"I still hate him," she said, whipping a single tear away from her eye, "Where does his son live?"

We did not go to the address of Richard Cromwell Jr. that day. We did not have a plan for seeing him yet, and I was not even certain if we had been given the true address.

We read the papers in the folder Dumas had given us; they were all handwritten copies of payment lists; unfortunately there were no names; just initials; AD, JC, BF, LH, RC, GL; there were pages of these, none of which were any help.

All in all we were glad to leave work that day and return to our home;

"Mother! Father!" Bernadette came running toward us as soon as we walked through the door; her long, black hair was tied back in a ribbon and she dark green eyes were shining; she was an absolutely gorgeous child and I often said I could see nothing of myself in her. However, sometimes when she got a particularly mischievous look on her face, I thought she looked somewhat like me.

"Come here!" Bernadette grabbed us both by our hands; "Look what I have been doing!" she pulled us to the music room and climbed artfully up onto the bench. It was frightening how she would climb and sneak around the house, always doing her best to surprise whoever was in the house; it was not anything CJ or I had taught her to do, she just did it. Marie said she acted exactly like the two of us and if we were not careful she would wind up just as we had.

However, now she was not interested in creeping around; she placed her fingers on the piano keys and carefully hit a random succession of notes, then looked up at us triumphantly, "I wrote it," she was grinning madly,

I put my hand on her back; my palm was almost the size of her whole back, "That was wonderful, when did you write it?"

"Today while Marie was cleaning," She smiled at me and climbed up so she was standing on the bench and turned to face me, wrapping her little arms around me and I picked her up off the bench,

CJ laughed and I knew why; Bernadette always called Marie Marie despite us trying to get her to call her Madame Giry. She had heard CJ call her Marie once and that was all she would ever call her.

I carried Bernadette into the kitchen and CJ followed; Marie was cooking,

"Ah good, I thought I heard you two come in," Marie said,

"We were ambushed by someone at the door," CJ said playfully and she put her face close to Bernadette's; who I was still holding,

"What does 'ambush' mean?" she asked, laughing back at her mother,

"It's when you and a lot of other people hide, and then when someone else comes along you all jump out at them!" CJ said, rubbing her nose against Bernadette's,

"Would you stop telling her things like that!" Marie scolded, "Don't give her any ideas!"

After dinner we would always go up to Bernadette's room. The crib was gone; she was too big for it and we had gotten her a 'grown up bed,' which CJ and I would sit on with her and read with her before she went to sleep.

It was a bit silly, but all the books we had were the one's CJ had taken ages ago on our first assassin job and they were all advanced, so our daughter was slowly learning the classics. She was extremely bright and I was very proud when I heard her read her first sentence aloud.

Bernadette insisted that we sing to her before she went to sleep; CJ now sung a bit as well; I had taught her and her voice was tolerable. Bernadette smiled and closed her young eyes. We kissed her softly and quietly left the room.

Later, after we had gone over everything we knew about the case Dumas had just given us, we finally lay down ourselves. I had a hard time falling asleep and I knew CJ did as well. I could not imagine what she must have been going through; to have to see the man who had hurt her so badly must have been awful. This whole investigation gave me a bad feeling. I had finally fallen asleep when CJ jerked beside me; I immediately woke up,

"No, stop," CJ whimpered beside me, and I knew she was dreaming, and by the way she was moving I knew what she was dreaming about. She suddenly sat up straight and screamed; when she realized where she was she started to cry,

I put my arms around her and drew her to me, gently whispering in her ear and stroking her hair,

"It all seemed so real," she whispered, "he got me again, he's got me again!"

"No, he doesn't have you, I do," I held her tighter, "I have you and you are safe,"

We lay back down in the bed and CJ nestled against me, "Don't let go of me," she whispered, "please don't let go of me,"

"I won't," I said to her gently, "I won't,"


	33. Party is such sweet sorrow

"What the hell were you two thinking?" Dumas yelled at us the next day, "What did you go over to Cromwell's house for? Now he knows the police are interested in his son! I am sure he knows what his son is doing and now he knows the police are looking for him! Old Cromwell had already demanded we fire you!"

CJ and I sat, taking our punishment in Dumas's office,

"Of course we are not _going_ to fire you, but be careful! This is the case of a lifetime and we cannot blow it!"

"He gave us his son's address," CJ said, defending our actions,

"And I bet it is fake,"

Unfortunately it was. We checked it out and it was some restaurant,

"So he thinks he can stop us, does he?" CJ said coldly, and an angry look came over her face, "Come on Erik, we are taking a walk,"

"Where are we going?" I asked as I followed her down the road, and we went past the cab, "Aren't we forgetting the cab?"

"No, we can't go where I want to go with a police cab,"

"Where you want to go, and where would that be?"

"I know some people," she said, pulling her coat tighter around her to try and block out the April wind,

"What does that mean?" I asked, although I had a pretty good idea what she meant,

"It means that if anything is rotten in the state of Denmark, I know who knows about it,"

It was a great walk to where CJ wanted to go; she led me right into the decaying heart of Paris. The streets were grungy as were the people; so much so that they nearly blended together. I was not put ill at ease by all of this and neither was CJ. Although we had been living better for sometime and our clothes were not tattered and our faces were clean, this was the kind of thing we had been used to.

As we walked deeper into this villainous area of Paris, people began to leer at us, but when we glared icily back they usually dropped their gaze. CJ turned into a rotted old bar and whistled to the thin old man behind the counter,

"CJ!" the man looked up and smiled, showing yellowish teeth,

"Jimmy," CJ said smiling back, "I need to talk to you,"

Jimmy turned out to be very helpful; it seemed CJ had done him several favors in the past and he was willing to tell us everything he knew, and he knew a lot. He told us that he had heard something about this Cromwell and that some men in the neighborhood had been recruited to deliver payments from the investors to Cromwell. He told us that he knew for certain that one of these meetings was taking place the next night on the Rue Mer.

"Thanks Jimmy," CJ said as we left, "I owe you one,"

"He was a wealth of information," I said as we started the arduous walk back to the cab,

"Jimmy knows everything," CJ said, "He just gets everyone drunk and then they open their souls to him,"

"So you knew him from before you got arrested?" I asked,

"No, I met him after I was arrested and we have been secretly courting ever since," CJ said dryly,

"You know, that is not amusing on any level,"

CJ laughed at me and threw her arm through mine.

When we returned to the police station and told Dumas what we had found out he was very impressed,

"I knew having someone as shifty as you would pay off CJ," he said smiling, "This is perfect! We can station men all around the area and follow the two delivery boys and they can lead us to Cromwell; hopefully I will be able to give Fillips good news at the damn party two days from now,"

I groaned as I remembered the party Dumas was referring to; Fillips was getting a commendation of sorts and there was going to be a big celebration for him; one to which all members of the police force were expected to go to. Dumas pulled no punches when he told us that it was going to be sickeningly pompous and boring, and that we all had to be there.

The night of the stakeout was cold and moonless. CJ and I stood in the shadows of the Rue Mer, watching carefully. There were men all around us; hiding in the bushes holding guns. They had been told not to shoot however; unless it was necessary. We wanted to follow the men; not kill them.

I watched carefully every movement on the street. My eyes were trained to the dark and I searched the night for any sign of movement. It was so cold that my whole body felt numb and I wanted to move to generate warmth but I could not risk drawing attention to myself. CJ was huddled close to me, and her body offered some comfort, but very little.

It was quite late before anything happened and I was desperately wishing I was at home with my daughter and CJ when I saw two men at the end of the road walked up to each other and I knew it was the payoff. All was going well and CJ and I were moving into position to follow them; we were going to take one and Tom and Leo Denton were going to take the other, when a nervous policeman in the bushes accidentally let his gun go off,

I winced as the shot rang through the otherwise silent night and the two men bolted. They both ran in the same direction and CJ and I sprung up and followed. The men we were chasing were sprinting wildly away, and there was a serious pain in my numb limbs as I forced my legs to pump up and down. However, the chase was rewarding. CJ and I brought down the two men and bound them; and then I realized we were alone.

"Nobody else ran after them?" I panted, my breath white puffs in front of my face,

"Apparently not," CJ took long deep breaths, then I saw lights coming toward us,

"Erik! CJ!" Dumas yelled to us, "You got them?"

"Yes," I painstakingly stood, "Where were you all?"

"Oh you don't ask," Dumas grumbled, "Seems Leo's gun went of, ended up hitting Tom in the leg,"

The two delivery boys were carted off to prison for the night and we all took one cab back to the station,

"How is your leg?" I asked Tom when I saw him,

"I will be alright; I can't believe Leo _shot_ me!"

"It was an accident!" Leo grumbled,

"An accident which almost cost us everything," Dumas snapped, "If Erik and CJ were not so quick on their feet we would all be in trouble; Fillips knew about this and he would be furious if he knew we blew it,"

"It was nothing," CJ said modestly,

"No, it was something, we would be nowhere in this investigation if it weren't for you two and Fillips is going to know about it,"

We returned home late, and Dumas told us we were free to come in late the next day. Marie was asleep at the kitchen table and we gently shook her awake,

"Your home, finally," She said yawning, "Are you both alright?"

"Yes," I said, smiling a bit as she stretched her arms,

"Good…then I am going to sleep,"

"So are we,"

We went quietly into Bernadette's room and saw her sleeping peacefully; we kissed her lightly and then retired to our room. I had barely wrapped my arm around CJ when we fell asleep.

The next day, we questioned the delivery man who was supposed to take the money to Cromwell. The other man had been killed in prison the night before, which was a rotten turn of luck because now we could not find out who the aristocrat was who was paying Cromwell. The other delivery boy told us where Cromwell lived, but he was not at the house when the police arrived so Dumas set a watch on the house and sent us home to get ready for the party.

It was at eight o'clock in some banquet hall and we had been told to dress nicely. CJ was going to wear the dress I had given her the Christmas she had been pregnant with Bernadette.

I was wearing what I used to wear at the opera house; the black formal wear had been in among all the other clothes I had brought up but I had never dreamed I would wear it again.

"I can't believe this still fits me," I said as I pulled on my shirt,

"Why? You're as fit as ever," CJ smiled at me as she batted my hands away from my shirt and proceeded to dress me herself, "You are my strong, muscular, manly husband," she laughed as she buttoned up my evening jacket,

"You are quite a sight yourself," I surveyed her hungrily as she stepped back from me; the dress fit her like a glove, hugging her every curve. CJ had always been thin, but after Bernadette she had grown curvier and she had never been quite so thin since.

"Come on _Don_ _Juan_," And I winced at the reference, "We are going to be late,"

"Mother! You look beautiful!" Bernadette exclaimed as we entered her room to bid her goodnight,

"Thank you darling," She said as she picked her up and held her on her hip, "And how does your father look?"

I felt a strange tenseness as I waited for her response, "Father, you look so handsome!" she smiled and held out her arms to me and CJ passed her to me,

"Are you going to wear the mask?" Bernadette asked me with her head tilted to one side; CJ had insisted that I not wear the mask around Bernadette while she was growing up so she would be used to my face. I had been adamant about not ever letting her see my true face but CJ had literally hidden my mask and would not let me have it back until I did as she said. She had been right, of course, and the result was that my daughter was not afraid of how I looked.

"Yes I am; some people would think it would not be proper," I said lightly,

"That seems silly," Bernadette wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes,

"It is, but there are some things we cannot change," Bernadette nodded and I kissed her softly, "Good night," I said to her and CJ kissed her forehead as well and I set her down on her bed,

"Good bye!" she waved as we walked out of her room and down the stairs,

The party was a glittering event filled with a mixture of rich Parisians and dressed up police men. CJ and I walked toward the front door and I felt the nerves growing in my stomach. I had gotten much better about being around people, but this was a lot more people than I was used to. I gripped CJ's hand tightly as we walked up the stairs to the entrance among the throng headed inside.

"Relax," CJ whispered to me as we walked, "You look great,"

"You look better,"

"Well the look at me," she flashed me a wry smile which was absolutely irresistible,

The hall we walked into was gleaming with polished marble and oozing with opulence; there were large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and circular tables dotted the floor and they were decorated with extravagant centerpieces.

"This is incredible," CJ breathed,

"Yes…so where are the drinks?" I said in a jaded voice and CJ laughed at me,

We ended up sitting with Dumas and his wife, along with several people I did not know, but they all complemented CJ on her dress. Everything was going more or less alright; dinner and then speeches passed without incident. Every one at the table thought this whole party was rather over done and conversation turned to quite enjoyable, inappropriate topics.

After dinner a band began to play and some people began to dance; which was all well and good until CJ got up to walk across the room to get another drink. I watched her walk across the room; unabashedly staring at her back side. She must have felt my eyes on her for she turned and smiled back at me.

And then it happened. It was like watching my worst nightmare in slow motion. CJ was not watching where she was going and she ran into a man who was walking across in the other direction; a man who was none other than Raoul de Chagny.

I saw her apologize and him smile and I felt sick. I wanted to run right over to her and pull her away but I really could not. I could not let Raoul see me; if he did it would open up a whole new set of questions which could lead to my death. But he was talking to her, he grinned at her and she laughed. It was infuriating; I had given him Christine, he should leave CJ alone. Of course, neither of them had any way of knowing what was happening; CJ did not know what Raoul de Chagny looked like, and de Chagny did not know CJ was my wife. Still, I felt as though my heart was being torn apart.

Then he took her hand and kissed it, and I stood. I had had enough; I was going to go over there and give that de Chagny boy exactly what he had coming. However I saw CJ pull her hand away and nod to him, then hurry back over to me,

"Erik," she said when she reached me, placing both her palms on my chest, "I had not idea who that was until he told me his name," she looked worried, "Did he see you?"

"No, I don't think so, but I saw the two of you," I said sharply, "You seemed rather friendly,"

"Erik, you cannot passably think I was doing anything except being friendly, and had I know who it was from the beginning I never would have said a word to him," She wrapped her arms around my neck, and my anger began to ebb away,

"You know," I said slyly as I wrapped my arms around her waist, "I think if I told Dumas that de Chagny was here, he might permit us to leave rather than have us get discovered,

"I think you should try it," CJ said, moving her lips close to mine,

I told Dumas and he quickly agreed we should go, but he gave us a wicked grin as we left and I think he knew the underlying reason for our desire to depart; CJ and I were usually too tired at night and had no time to enjoy each other in the biblical sense; but tonight was different, tonight was ours and the next morning was too; Dumas had said we could come in late again.

We got in a cab; I pressed CJ to the back of the seat and kissed her hungrily, stroking her inner thigh with my hand; we had not been intimate in some time and I felt a great need for her.

When we arrived at the house I literally carried CJ to our room, took off the outer part of the dress she had been wearing, leaving her in her thin slip; and lay her down on the bed. She pulled me down with her and her hands flew to my shirt, undoing it while I pressed my lips hard to hers. I reached around her and loosened the ties of the slip, pulling it down off her shoulders enough so that her breasts spilled out over the neck line.

It would take to long to fully undress her and I did not have time for that; I wanted her too badly to wait. I pushed up her slip until it was around her waist; trailing my lips along her inner thighs,

"Erik," She moaned and I stared at her for a moment; the woman that was so strong, that was the mother of my child, the woman that I loved,

I kissed her deeply and moved inside of her; the next few hours were the most enjoyable I had had in a long time and we were finally spent; ready to sleep in each other's arms; when there was a knock at the door.

At first I thought I must have been dreaming; it was too late for anyone to be knocking at the door. But then it came again,

"Who the hell would be calling now?" I said angrily and I pulled on a robe I had had since the opera days, "This better be good," the knock sounded again,

"Wait," CJ said sleepily, "I am coming with you," and she wrapped another robe of mine around her,

I lit a candle and we went down the stairs, "I'm coming," I roared as the knocking sounded again and I pulled the door open,

The sight that stared back at me looked as though it was out of some fiendish dream; Dumas, Fillips, and Raoul and Christine de Chagny all stared back at me. In the candle light I could see the Christine was weeping wildly, and the de Chagny pointed at me and yelled,

"He did it! he is the man who stole my son!"


	34. Unfair

"What!" I was bewildered, what the hell was he talking about, and why did Dumas and Fillips look so grim?

"I am afraid we have to come in, Erik," Dumas said heavily, and I knew it would be useless to shut the door in their faces so I was given no choice but to back up and let them in,

"I am sorry about this CJ," Dumas said as he saw her standing behind me "Is there anywhere we can sit down? We need to talk,"

CJ directed everyone to the dinning room where she lit more candles and everyone sat down except for de Chagny,

"Where is he?" He demanded of me the moment everyone else sat down, "What the hell did you do to my son!" he was yelling and I was sure he would wake Marie and Bernadette,

"I don't know what you are talking about," I hissed through clenched teeth, "I didn't even know you had a son!"

"Don't lie!" he yelled frantically, and Dumas rose from the table, "You know exactly what I am talking about!"

"Viscomte, please allow me to speak for a moment," Dumas said, coming over and laying a hand on his shoulder,

de Chagny threw his hand off of him, "Ask him," he said in a trembling voice, "ask him about how he is obsessed with my wife and how he would do anything to get her back, how he is _stalking_ her! Ask him!" he was yelling again,

CJ moved quickly and hit him so hard across the face he stumbled backwards and held his cheek,

"Stop yelling," she hissed coldly, "You will wake our daughter you stupid fool," she turned to Dumas, "what is this madman talking about?"

"It seemed that Viscomte and Vicomtess de Chagny returned home from the celebration tonight to find their son missing; the Vicomtess began weeping that the Angel would know where he was; so of course he went straight to Fillips, who went straight to me, and now…"

"And now you are here?" I said, and I shook my head, "You cannot possibly think I actually kidnapped their son," I said heatedly to Dumas, "I was with you practically the whole night!"

"And he _was_ with me the whole night," CJ said angrily, "So how could he possibly have done this?"

"You two left the party early! Dumas told us!" de Chagny cried, "You could have gone and done it then! I want this man arrested!"

"You have no proof whatsoever that he had done anything to your child!" CJ cried, infuriated, and I moved to put my hand on her shoulder,

"Christine told me, she told me he knows where our son is!" de Chagny shouted,

"And how the hell does she know that?" CJ turned to Christine, who was the only one still sitting at the table,

She was still crying uncontrollably, "No…" she stuttered through her tears, "I mean that…" but then her husband cut in,

"You see how upset she is?" he moved to her side, "Just tell them what you told me,"

"Erik…Erik will know where he is," Christine sobbed,

"There you see?" de Chagny snapped, "Now, I am going to take my wife back out to our carriage, this is too much for her; and when I come back I had better see this thing," and he pointed at me, "in handcuffs!"

He ushered Christine out of the room; but not before she threw one last, pleading look and me which I did not understand,

"You are not going to arrest him, are you?" CJ's voice was shaking,

"They don't have any real proof against him," Fillips answered her, "But I am afraid we are in a bed position here…"

"Father?" a little voice spoke all of a sudden and I saw the Bernadette had woken up and now she was walking toward me; rubbing her little eyes, "Why is everyone awake? Is this a party?" her face brightened and it almost killed me,

"No, it's not," I said, and she reached my side and tugged on my robe, I picked her up,

"Why don't you go back to bed, darling?" CJ came over and addressed our daughter,

"I'm not sleepy," she said, smiling wickedly and hiding her face in my shoulder; everything was a game for her,

"I know, but we all need to talk about some very important things," CJ said a bit sternly,

"Did I hear people yelling?" Marie had come into the room, wearing a ridiculous looking nightgown,

"Marie, would you take Bernadette back up to her room, please?" CJ asked, and Marie nodded, but Bernadette gripped me harder,

"I don't want to go," she said stubbornly; but then there was no more time for argument, because de Chagny walked back into the room,

"I thought I said I wanted him arrested!" he bellowed, "And what unfortunate family did he take _that_ child from?" he said once he saw Bernadette,

"This is my daughter," I growled,

"Prove it," he snapped,

"My wife delivered the baby," Dumas cut in, glaring at de Chagny, "Unless you think she is a liar, than I guess you have your proof,"

He glared at Dumas, "This man should be dead!" He shouted,

"My daughter is right here!" I shouted, trying to stop him from saying what I believed he was about to say,

"And my son is missing and it is because of you! Even without that you should be dead, do you remember what he did?" He cried at Dumas, "He kidnapped my wife and tried to force her to _marry_ him!"

"Stop!" I cried and I covered my daughter's ears,

"He locked me and one man who was supposed to be his friend in a torture chamber and left us to die! If Christine had not appeased him then we both would have drowned! He threatened to blow up the entire opera house! He belongs in jail, not living in some house!" de Chagny was yelling at the top of his lungs,

Dumas and Fillips were looking uncomfortably at each other, "He was supposed to be executed," de Chagny continued, "you were supposed to punish him for what he had done to me; my wife told me she saw him and she begged me not to do anything about it and I didn't! and look were it has gotten me! My son is gone! I want to see some retribution, you owe me that!"

Neither Dumas nor Fillips moved, "You set the man who wanted to kill me free," de Chagny said, "You need to arrest him and punish him; if you don't I swear to God everyone will know what you have done and you can consider your careers over; arrest him and make him tell you where he has put my son,"

Fillips made a motion to Dumas, who sighed and stepped toward me, "I am so sorry Erik," he said tragically, and I felt my whole body shake as I handed Bernadette to CJ,

"You can't do this!" CJ cried, taking our daughter and glaring at Dumas, "You can't treat us like this! You gave us a second chance and look at all we have done for you! You can't give us back our lives and then take them away again like this!" there were tears in her eyes which begun to roll down her cheeks, "Erik did not kidnap anyone and you know it!"

"I know," Dumas said, and he could not look CJ in the face,

"It is what he did before that is condemning him now," Fillips said sadly, "I am afraid we have to arrest him,"

I nodded; I had know that it would end this way the minute de Chagny had started his rant about what I had done under the opera. However, this knowledge did not make life any easier,

I turned to CJ; she was shaking now and Bernadette looked upset and confused; I put my arms around them both and I pressed my lips to CJ's, cherishing for one last time the feel of her against me,

"I love you," I whispered to her, and I felt hot tears in my eyes,

"I love you to," she hardly managed to speak and I could feel her trembling as I held her for one last time,

"Where are you going Father?" Bernadette asked me, she looked so innocent and so confused,

"I have to go with these men for awhile," I said to her, and I knew there were tears on my cheeks; both of which were exposed as I had forgotten to put on my mask when I had come to answer the door,

"Why are you crying?" Bernadette asked, and her voice sounded a bit panicked,

"I am not crying darling," I reach out and took her face in my hands, "I am just tired,"

"I will wait up for you Father; I won't go to bed until you come home," She said, and she was starting to cry along with everyone else,

"No, you will have to sleep; please be a good girl for your mother while I am gone," I could barely speak as I said these words and kissed Bernadette on her little forehead,

"Come along, Erik," Dumas said softly and he put a hand on my shoulder,

We all walked sullenly toward the door,

"Can I go change out of this robe?" I asked Dumas,

"No," He said, "No time," I thought this was very strange but now we were at the door and I turned and kissed CJ one last time. We walked out into the night and I heard a burst of tears behind me and I saw CJ had fallen to her knees on the floor and was weeping; holding desperately on to Bernadette, and then Marie shut the door.

I wanted to lash out and kill that foppish little brat who had destroyed my family, but I knew that if I did it would only land me in prison faster. There was only one cab waiting outside,

"I sent my wife home in our cab," de Chagny said, "She was too upset to stay,"

No one responded to this. We road silently back to the police station,

"Shouldn't we be taking him to prison?" de Chagny asked; that little fop never knew when to keep his mouth shut,

"We are going to question him and hold him here overnight," Fillips said as the cab stopped and he quickly ushered me out, Dumas right behind me, leaving de Chagny in the cab alone, "Now you should go home," Fillips said to him, "Let us do our job and find your son,"

Before de Chagny could say anything else Fillips shut the cab door and yelled at the driver to take de Chagny home, then we made for the station. They put me in the interrogation room,

"This was a really low thing to do to me," I said angrily at Fillips and Dumas, "You ripped apart my family and for what? You know I had nothing to do with the de Chagny's child,"

"I know Erik," Dumas said heavily,

"So why the hell did you do this!" I pounded my fist on the table, "After all we have done for you! May I remind you that but for CJ and I your grand experiment would have been a massive failure! We have always done exactly what you asked of us, we always come through and this is what you do to us? We may have just been criminals once but you gave us our lives back and you cannot jerk us around like this!" I was fuming,

"I know Erik," Dumas said, "Go home,"

"What?" I stared at him,

"He said go home," Fillips answered me, "We only brought you in here because de Chagny was raving so badly about this and you did leave the party early; he and his wife left early too, and they came back into the party before it was over and de Chagny was making a scene,"

"So what about his threat to expose what I did at the opera?" I asked, and I was not sure if I should feel relieved or just angrier that they had put my family through all of this,

"He can say whatever he likes; the Phantom of the Opera was executed year ago and all the paperwork proves it; we did our jobs well when we took you out of prison," Dumas explained,

"So all of this was for _show_?" I said slowly,

"Yes,"

"Did you see what you put us through!" I yelled, standing, "He was raving about me in front of my daughter! My wife was upset,"

"Heartbroken, was more like," Dumas interrupted,

"Yes she was," I growled, "And so was I! I thought I was never going to see her again! Her or my daughter! And all because you had to cater to the whim of a rich man,"

"I said you could go home Erik," Dumas said, "And that is more than I have to do, much more,"

"You did a rotten thing tonight," I said, shaking my head, "A really rotten thing,"

"Go home, Erik," Fillips said to me, and I glared at both of them as I left the room and walked back out of the station house.

Those bastards, I thought. All of them were bastards; Dumas, Fillips, and de Chagny; they had come into my home and hurt my family, all because they thought their lives were more important then my wife's and my daughter's. I walked quickly down the road, but then I heard footsteps behind me,

"Erik wait," Dumas came up behind me,

"What?" I growled, freezing in my robe,

"Apologize to your family from me," and he turned and walked off,

I had to walk all the way back to my house; but as I got closer I began to forget my anger and I simply wanted to see CJ and Bernadette again. I ran the rest of the way home and I finally got to the front door and tried to open it; but it was locked. I did not have my key with me so I had to knock,

The door did not open for some time, but finally I heard footsteps coming toward me,

"Who ever you are go away! We have had enough for tonight!" CJ yelled at me through the shut door,

"Candice Joselyn Phann open this door at once!" I yelled back to her and a moment later it swung wide,

She was staring at me, and for a moment she didn't say anything, and then she rushed at me; throwing her arms around me and crying with relief, I was teary eyed as well,

"How…did they let you go?" she asked but before I could answer her she pressed her lips to mine in a desperate fashion, clinging to me tightly,

"They did," I told her as our lips broke apart, "They said not to worry and that de Chagny could not prove I was who he said I was,"

"So all that was for show?" she asked, her voice suddenly furious,

I nodded at her grimly,

"Father! I told you I would wait up for you!" Bernadette ran toward us and I scooped her up off the ground,

"Were you good for your Mother while I was gone?" I asked her and she smiled,

"I was very good, but Mother cried a lot," She wrapped her arms around my neck and rested her little head against mine,

"Oh thank God!" Marie came out into the hallway and saw me, "is everything going to be alright?"

"It should be," I said, thankful to be standing in the hallway in my own house again,

"Good, then you need rest!" Marie herded us upstairs and after some time we got Bernadette to sleep; she had been wide awake and wanted to play. Normally we would have told her no and that she had to go to sleep, but after the night we had just had we wanted to spend time together.

There was a gray light in the sky before CJ and I went to our room. We tumbled down beside each other,

"I really thought I was never going to see you again," CJ told me as she lay her head on my chest, "I have never been scared in my life,"

"I would have come back to you somehow," I said, knowing I would have broke out of prison if I had had to bite my way out,

"It has been some night," CJ sighed, "I was so worried, I kept thinking about what I was going to tell Bernadette, and what it would be like to sleep in this bed alone," she choked,

I hushed her, holding her close, "It's alright now," she sighed and finally fell asleep. As I held her in my arms I wonder when I had become the man I was; I used to loath the touch of other human beings, I used to not care about anyone or anything. Now somehow I was gladly holding this woman in my arms and I cared about her more than anything else.

We slept late into the morning; I slept like the dead and it was not until Marie knocked on our door and opened it wide enough for Bernadette, the ever energized, to run to our bed that I woke up.

"Mother! Father we have a visitor!" she said excitedly as she bounded up on our bed and shook us both,

"What?" I looked up sharply at Marie who was standing in the doorway,

"It's Christine," Marie said heavily, "She came alone, and she seems very upset,"


	35. Crime and Punishment

"What is she doing here?" I asked, sitting up as Bernadette tugged on my arm,

"I don't know, she has only been downstairs for a few minutes,"

"She looks very sad," Bernadette said as she wriggled herself between CJ and me, "She looked like Mother did last night,"

CJ stoked Bernadette's sleek black hair, "I guess we have to go down and see what she is after," She murmured to me,

I nodded, "Bernadette, go down stairs and help Marie, we will be down in a minute," She jumped off the bed and shot down the stairs; she ran like the wind when she wanted to,

Marie shut the door,

"What do you think she wants with you?" CJ asked me as she removed the slip she had slept in; I had been focused on dressing myself and then dealing with the problem of Christine but the sight of CJ with out her slip on distracted me. I pulled her to me, cradling her head as I pressed my lips gently to hers, running my fingertips up and down her bare back,

"Erik, I think we still need to go downstairs," CJ smiled up at me and I reluctantly released her,

"I have no idea what Christine could be here for," I stated as I pulled on a fresh set of clothes and my mask,

"We could ask her," CJ said wryly, "I hear she is just downstairs,"

We walked down to the dinning room; I had an odd feeling as I walked into the room and saw my daughter talking to Christine,

"We usually don't have so many visitors," Bernadette was saying, "But last night we had people over, and now you are here! I hope you are nicer than the people who were hear last night,"

"You…you met the people who came here last night?" Christine asked slowly,

"Yes," Bernadette frowned, "They made my mother cry,"

At these words Christine sobbed loudly,

"Bernadette, that is enough talk for now," CJ said firmly, but by the small smile on her lips and the slight raise of her eyebrows she had enjoyed the fact that our daughter had made Christine cry harder,

"Can I go play with the piano?" Bernadette looked from me to her mother,

"Yes, just not too loud; no pounding," I said to her as climbed skillfully out of the chair she had been standing on and tore out of the room; much to my amusement she stopped short just as she reached the doorframe,

She grabbed the side of the wall with one hand and turned back to Christine, smiling in the mischievous way which made her remind me of me,

"It was very nice to meet you, and I hope you are nicer than the people from last night, I don't like it when my parents cry," still smiling broadly she turned and ran for the music room,

This left the three of us alone in the dinning room. We looked at each other awkwardly for a time; CJ and I sat side by side facing Christine,

"You have a piano?" Christine finally offered as a way to break the silence,

"Are you surprised?" CJ asked her in an icy tone,

"Well…" Christine began uncertainly,

"You think that we are too poor to own a piano?" CJ asked, her voice turned dangerously callous,

"No! I just thought that…um…"

"You thought what?" CJ asked sharply,

"I don't know what I was thinking," Christine finally said, giving up trying to make her point, which was most likely as good idea as CJ looked like she wanted nothing more that to rip Christine to shreds; and I would have let her.

I was angry with her for involving me in the kidnapping of her child; I had had nothing to do with it and it had caused my family a great deal of pain,

"We could sit here all day," I said harshly, "But I cannot waste any more time on you Christine, so tell me why you have come here,"

She sighed shakily, as though she had been crying so much she was now out of tears, "I need your help,"

I snorted, "Why the hell should I help you?"

Christine look heartbroken, "You have always helped me, Erik," and I saw CJ shutter as she said my name,

"I helped you once, and it…" Suddenly I stopped; I had helped her once and it had led to my ruin; that was what I was going to say, however it was not true. I had helped her and it had led me to Dumas, who had led me to CJ. I had never thought of my life in this way before and I suddenly realized that but for Christine's rejection I never would have met CJ,

Had Christine agreed to stay and I had not let her go, I would still be under the opera in darkness, and I shuttered as I thought about a life without CJ and my daughter,

"What do you need Christine?" I asked her, and there was a glimmer in her brown eyes; I looked over to CJ and I saw that her green eyes were set in an almost frightening expression; CJ was not going to forgive Christine for the night before,

"I…well I don't know how to start," she looked up at us and I saw her quickly drop her eyed from CJ's glare,

"It's Raoul…he was the most wonderful husband, and then a year or so ago he…changed. He started to act odd, he would go places late at night and he was nervous all the time. Then when we discovered our son, Henri, was gone it was like he went mad! He thought that we should seek you out, he said it must have been you. I was trying to say that I thought you would know where Henri was…because you were always watching out for me…I never meant for you to get arrested; I tried to explain this to Raoul but he would not listen!"

She paused to wipe her eyes on her handkerchief and I saw CJ roll her eyes next to me,

"Then when we got home last night, I found this," she took a piece of paper out of her handbag and handed it to me,

I read the letter; it was a ransom note; not unusual in a kidnapping. I skimmed the latter; nothing really stood out, it said all the usual things…I have your son, bring money, no police,

"I showed it to Raoul and he became furious! He destroyed my whole room; threw a vase against the wall, broke a chair, he even threw all of my dresses about and ripped some of them," she took a deep breath,

"I heard him through the door at night; he was pacing back and forth, muttering, and then he would just break down and cry for awhile, and then he would start pacing again. I was afraid of him so I left the house; I wandered around for awhile until I thought of you again Erik,"

She lifted her sad brown eyes to stare directly into mine, "I love my son, and I can't find him! I don't know where he is, or if he is safe, and I don't know what Raoul is going to do about it! I know you can do anything! I know you can figure anything out! Please, tell me where my son is!" she began to cry again,

I honestly felt sorry for her; I had been through the pain of thinking I would never see my child again and it had almost killed me; but at least I had known where she was, and that she was safe. If she had been missing…I would have gone mad. CJ appeared to grow more sympathetic as well. As a parent I knew she was thinking what I was thinking,

"Is there anyone you can think of who would what to hurt your family?" CJ asked, and her voice was considerably less sever,

"No, no, not that I can think of,"

I was staring at the letter she had handed me before; I was staring at the amount demanded for the return of the child, then I had a thought,

"CJ…" I pointed to the figure demanded,

"Oh God," she said quickly, then she ran out of the room,

"Where is she going?" Christine asked, bewildered,

"To our room, to get something," I said, still concentration on the letter,

"She is very beautiful Erik," Christine said, and I stared at her,

"Yes…she is,"

"How did you meet her?" she asked curiously,

"Long story," I said simply, and then CJ rushed back into the room,

"Here," she was holding the payment sheets from the folder Dumas had given us and she threw it on the table in front of me and pointed,

"RC," I whispered, and the amount he had been paying matched the amount the kidnapper was asking for,

"He had been in on the Cromwell scheme the whole time," CJ whispered, sitting down beside me, "But if he giving Cromwell payments, why kidnap the child?"

I considered a moment, "Maybe he wanted to get out of the game," I said,

"Why? It was probably earning him a fortune,"

"I don't know, but we could ask," I said grimly,

Moments later a bewildered Christine was following CJ and I as we walked toward the police station. Christine was lagging behind but we did not slow our pace. We had an awkward cab ride over to Etrange, after which we hurried to the station house. Dumas looked up as we entered his office,

"We need to talk to de Chagny,"

We rushed to the de Chagny manor as quickly as we could; CJ and I explained what we had found out on the way,

When we entered the house, de Chagny came toward us; he had been pacing in the foyer,

"Where the hell did you go Christine?" he barked, and then his eyes fell on all of us, "What is he doing out of jail!"

"You know he did not take your son; we have to talk, Viscomte," Dumas looked at him coldly,

Five minutes later we were seated at the large dinning room table; Dumas was between CJ and I while Christine and Raoul were across from us. Dumas threw the ransom letter on the table and pushed it toward Raoul,

"Does this look farmiliar?" he asked,

"Yes, my wife showed it to me last night, I already contacted your friend Fillips and I told him I am going to pay the money and that he should not send help,"

"Why shouldn't he send help?" Dumas asked,

"Because I know how you police men are, you would probably shoot my son instead of the kidnapper," he snapped, "And I can spare the money; it is nothing compared to getting my son back,"

"Oh I know you can spare the money," Dumas stated, "You have been sparing this exact amount for years now," and I pushed the payment records toward him; all payments with the letters RC as the name had been circled,

He tried to hide his shock but was unsuccessful, "I…have never seen those before," he stuttered,

"Maybe not, but I think you know what they are," Dumas said,

"No I don't," he snapped,

"He has your son you fool!" CJ yelled at him suddenly, standing up so fast the chair she had been sitting in flew out behind her, "Do you know what kind of a man he is! I knew his father, de Chagny," she put her hands on the table and leaned forward, glaring coldly into de Chagny's eyes, "His father is a wicked man; he had no problem locking children in rooms and beating them," de Chagny looked like he was going to be sick, and Christine started to cry again, "He _raped_ children; he _killed_ children," CJ snarled,

"That…that was his father," de Chagny said, shaking,

"Does your son ever remind you of yourself?" I asked Raoul in a low voice,

Raoul and Christine de Chagny buried their heads in their hands at the same moment; finally Raoul spoke,

"He…he said he was going to have to do something like this but I did not believe he would," He voice was shaking, "He said we needed to be more careful about payoffs because the police were asking about him and then that night they caught the delivery boys and found out where he was living and he had to move to escape; I told him it was getting to risky, and that I would not pay anymore, but he said he would make me," Raoul grabbed his wife's hand,

"When we found that our son was gone I did not want to believe he had taken him; I wanted to believe it was him," he pointed at me,

"But when I saw the letter and the payment amount; I knew he had taken him,"

"Why didn't you contact us at once?" Dumas asked,

"I thought I could handle it on my own," Raoul said miserably,

"Where is he? Where is Cromwell hiding?" Dumas asked,

"What will you do if I tell you?"

"We can get your son back; and if you tell us all about this little scheme Cromwell his been pulling than we will not press charges against you,"

Raoul de Chagny nodded.

The house Richard Cromwell Jr. was occupying looked quite evil; it was on the outskirts of Paris and it stood alone on a hill; the dead grass around it and the skeletal trees still naked from the winter against the darkening evening sky gave the whole place an eerie feeling.

CJ and I were waiting until night fully fell to approach the house. Cromwell Jr. had instructed Raoul to pay him the next night, so in all likelihood Cromwell was currently inside the house.

We were going to sneak into the house and find Cromwell, and then find the child. When night had fully covered the bleak area, CJ and I slunk up to the house. CJ had a gun and a knife; I had my lasso. I was reminded of our early days as assassins and I smiled a bit in the dark as I thought about the now far off time when I had first met CJ.

The house was darkened and we slunk up to it; cautiously creeping toward the windows. We had already formulated a plan; and we began to execute it. CJ went to the back of the house. She began breaking all the windows and banging on the side of the house. In the meantime, I went to the front door. Going to the front door was a very unexpected move, and we had agreed it might throw him off.

I tried the knob but it was locked. Stooping and taking out a lock pick, I had to work for only a moment before I heard a click. I opened the door slowly and peered inside. My eyes never lost their ability to look through the gloom of darkness and I saw no one in the room.

"Who ever you are I have a gun!" I heard a man's voice from the back of the house, "I will shoot!" I heard him say; and his voice seemed like it was coming from the main floor of the house,

I could hear CJ darting around the house and most likely confusing the hell out of Cromwell Jr.

"I can hear you!" he shouted, "I see you!"

And it was ironic that he said this as this moment, for what he did not see was about to ruin him. I cracked the back of his head and he fell to the ground, unconscious. I bound him with the rope I was carrying,

"CJ!" I called out, "All clear!"

"Coming in!" CJ yelled back and she ran to the front door,

I spotted a lantern on a table and lit it; allowing for CJ to see; we began to look for the child,

"Henri!" we called through the house, listening for a response; however none came. We searched the entire upper floor; we found records of his clever scheme but no child, then we searched the main floor and all that was left was the basement.

We finally found the terrified little boy; shaking, bound to a chair in the basement. He was no bigger than Bernadette. I scooped the crying boy into my arms and we left the basement. We lit a lantern in one of the top windows of the house; this was the signal for Dumas and the rest of the police to come out of hiding and go to the house.

Christine ran through the front door,

"Mother!" the little boy squirmed and I handed him to Christine,

"You really are an angel Erik," Christine whispered to me as we left the house, "You really are,"

Richard Cromwell Jr. was taken to prison, where he immediately petitioned for a lesser sentence on the bases that he testify against his father. Cromwell Jr. exposed his father as a murderer and an abuser, however at first it seemed that it would all be swept under the rug by the power of money and influence. However, the story was leaked to the papers and due to the stirring editorial from the famous writer Christopher Johnson Eriksson, public opinion demanded that both father and son be punished.

After this, Dumas pointed out to us that we were free; he had nothing over our heads and we could leave the station and find better jobs elsewhere. However, at least for the moment, we agreed to stay on; at a higher pay.

I was enjoying my life as I never before thought I could. Bernadette continued to grow and thrive. She was even introduced to Henri de Chagny; at which point she affectively managed to scare him into thinking our music room was haunted and sent him home terrified.

CJ was no doubt the love of my life; she was my savior and I cherished her company and her love beyond all else.

It was strange; I had always thought of my very life and my very face as a crime against humanity; however, I thought each time I saw my daughter smile or I held my wife in my arms as she slept; if my life was a crime I was willing to except the punishment.

Fin.


End file.
